•• 


// 

I 


W 


FAMOUS  INDIAN   CHIEFS 


FAMOUS  LEADERS  SERIES 

BY 
CHARLES  H.  L.  JOHNSTON 

Each  one  volume,  lar£e  1 2mo,  Illustrated, 
SI. 50 


FAMOUS  CAVALRY  LEADERS 
FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 
FAMOUS  SCOUTS 
FAMOUS  PR1VATEER5MEN 


L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

53  Beacon  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


SITTING    BULL. 


(See  page  425) 


FAMOUS    INDIAN 
CHIEFS 

Their  battles,  treaties,  sieves,  and  stru££les 

with  the  whites  for  the  possession 

of  America 


By 
CHARLES  H.  L.  JOHNSTON 

Author  of  "  Famous  Cavalry  Leaders,"  etc. 


Illustrated 


BOSTON.     L.     C.     PAGE     & 
COMPANY.  PUBLISHERS 


Copyright, 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE   &  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 
All  rights  reserved 

First  Impression,  November,  1909 
Second  Impression,  September,  1910 
Third  Impression,  September,  1911 


Printed  by 

THE      COLONIAL      PRESS: 
C.H.SimondsCa  Co.,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


Dedicated 

anU  Do  tin  j  fHcn 


INTRODUCTORY 


UPON  a  beautiful  day  in  July,  1492,  two  brown- 
skinned  Spaniards  lay  upon  the  wharf  that  jutted  far 
out  into  the  waters  of  the  blue  Mediterranean  Ocean 
at  Palos,  Spain,  and  looked  meditatively  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  far  West.  From  their  dress  it  could  be  easily 
seen  that  they  were  sailors,  and  from  their  conversation 
it  was  only  too  evident  that  they  were  speculating  upon 
questions  that  then  stirred  the  thoughts  of  many  in 
telligent  seafarers. 

"As  you  watch  a  ship,  its  hull  first  disappears  upon 
the  horizon,  then  the  spars,  and  then  the  masts,  them 
selves,"  said  one,  "  which  leads  me  to  the  belief  that 
mayhap  we  shall — in  some  of  our  voyages — come  to 
a  point  where  we  shall  fall  from  the  centre  of  the  earth 
and  disappear  into  the  heat  of  a  fiery  furnace." 

The  other  smiled.  "I  am  of  that  opinion  myself," 
he  answered,  "  but  I  do  not  feel  the  same  fear  of  toppling 
off  from  the  edge  of  things  when  I  am  on  inland  water, 
for  in  the  Caspian  Sea  I  have  found  that  there  is  an 
end  to  all  water  courses  and  bodies  of  water  that  are  of 
smaller  size  than  that  before  us.  In  maps,  I  see  that 
gnomes,  dragons,  hydras,  and  fire-breathing  snakes  are 
pictured  in  the  unexplored  distances.  Serpents  of  great 
size  and  ferocity  are  supposed  to  live  in  the  fiery  caldron 


M3I6075 


ii  INTRODUCTORY 

before  us.  Virgil,  himself,  speaks  of  them,  and,  as  for 
myself,  I  wish  that  I  might  have  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  what  is  beyond  the  coast  of  Africa,  which  is  the 
farthest  point  that  I  have  ever  reached  in  some  fifteen 
years  of  wandering  upon  the  ocean.  Tis  said  that 
Cathay,  by  some  called  China,  lies  beyond  the  horizon, 
and  is  a  land  full  of  intelligent  people  ruled  over  by  the 
mighty  Khan." 

"Well,"  continued  the  first,  "I  think  that  your  wish 
to  view  the  other  world  will  soon  be  fulfilled,  for  rumor 
has  it  that  Christopher  Columbus — whom  some  say  is 
half  crazy  with  ideas  that  this  world  is  round,  and  other 
strange  fancies — is  soon  going  to  be  able  to  take  a  trip 
across  the  sea,  lying  in  front  of  us.  Friends  tell  me  that 
he  has,  at  last,  obtained  money  and  ships  from  the  King 
and  Queen,  and  that  he  is  about  to  venture  forth  in 
search  of  Cathay.  You  must  hurry,  my  friend,  if  you 
would  join  his  crew,  for  men  tell  me  that  the  idea  is 
popular,  and  that  many  wish  to  take  passage  with 
him." 

The  second  seaman  leaped  to  his  feet.  "I  will  go 
at  once  and  see  if  I  cannot  get  a  place,"  he  said,  and, 
without  more  ado,  he  walked  hastily  to  the  narrow 
street  which  led  into  the  town. 

Not  many  weeks  later,  three  little  caravels:  The 
Nina,  The  Pinta,  and  The  Santa  Maria,  left  their  an 
chorage  in  front  of  the  quaint  seaport  of  Palos,  and,  pro 
pelled  by  a  gentle  breeze,  made  off  towards  the  Straits 
of  Gibraltar.  On  board  was  Christopher  Columbus: 
dreamer,  navigator,  astronomer,  mathematician,  and 
the  first  white  man  to  leave  a  record  of  a  trip  to  the 


INTRODUCTORY  ui 

West  Indies.  The  two  Spaniards  who  had  lain  upon 
the  wharf  of  Palos  were  with  him,  and,  with  spirits 
filled  with  the  hope  of  new  and  strange  adventures,  the 
steersmen  guided  the  vessels  towards  the  unknown 
West. 

Eventually  the  keen-eyed  mariners  sighted  land,  and, 
thinking  that  they  had  arrived  at  India,  the  Spaniard? 
called  the  natives  Indians,  when  they  had  reached 
the  shore  and  were  surrounded  by  copper-colored 
people.  These  savages  were,  at  first,  greatly  afraid 
of  the  fair-haired  strangers  and  refused  to  meet  them 
on  friendly  terms,  but,  after  they  understood  that  the 
voyageurs  would  not  injure  them,  they  began  to  barter 
and  trade  in  a  friendly  and  intimate  manner. 

The  natives  wore  no  clothing  and  had  their  bodies 
painted  with  grotesque  designs,  and  in  various  colors. 
They  were  armed  with  lances,  tipped  with  beads  of  sharp 
flint  and  fish  bones,  or  hardened  at  the  end  by  being 
charred  in  a  fire.  Of  iron  and  steel  they  apparently 
had  no  knowledge,  for  one  venturesome  brave  seized 
one  of  the  swords  of  the  Spaniards  and  severely  cut  his 
own  hand  with  it,  which  proved  conclusively  that  they 
were  not  accustomed  to  this  form  of  a  weapon.  With 
cries  of  pleasure  they  received  the  glass  beads,  pieces 
of  lead,  and  other  trinkets  which  Columbus  and  his 
men  gave  to  them,  and,  in  return,  offered  the  Spaniards 
tame  parrots,  cavassa  bread  (of  their  own  baking)  and 
long  rolls  of  cotton  yarn.  But  these  presents  did  not 
particularly  interest  the  white  adventurers,  as  they 
were  not  only  in  search  of  a  route  to  India,  but  also  for 
the  shining  and  alluring  particles  of  gold. 


iv  INTRODUCTORY 

In  their  noses  the  Indians  wore  small,  golden  orna 
ments  which  were  of  far  greater  interests  to  the  greedy 
invaders  than  were  the  tame  parrots.  So  much  so, 
indeed,  that  Columbus  and  his  men  immediately  made 
inquiries  regarding  the  source  from  which  the  natives 
secured  such  treasure.  They  were  told  that  these  articles 
came  from  the  southwest,  where  lived  a  powerful 
Monarch  who  was  accustomed  to  have  his  meals  served 
upon  dishes  of  fine,  beaten  gold.  This  stimulated  the 
spirits  of  the  invaders  to  penetrate  into  the  unknown 
distance,  for  they  were  confident  that  they  had  reached 
the  outlying  islands  of  Asia  and  were  near  a  famous 
deposit  of  riches  of  which  other  Spanish  travellers  had 
written. 

The  daring  Columbus  had  reached  San  Salvador — a 
beautiful  isle  of  the  West  Indies — which  was  surrounded 
by  other  fertile  islands,  covered  with  palms  and  luxurious 
foliage,  from  which  came  the  chatter  of  parrots,  the  cries 
of  tropical  birds  of  brilliant  plumage,  and  the  sweet 
scent  of  flowers  and  of  fruit.  As  the  Indians  were  not 
molested  they  became  more  friendly,  and  it  was  easier 
to  understand  their  signs  and  gesticulations.  From 
these  the  Spaniards  learned  that  they  were  in  the  midst 
of  an  archipelago — or  collection  of  islands — and  that 
there  were  more  than  a  hundred  of  these,  inhabited  by 
people  who  were  continually  at  war  with  one  another — 
a  state  of  affairs  that  exactly  tallied  with  what  Columbus 
had  heard  of  the  islands  upon  the  coast  of  Asia.  He  was 
therefore  convinced  that  he  was  in  a  land  which  had 
been  previously  explored  by  Spanish  voyageurs,  and 
that  he  had  found  what  he  had  set  out  from  Spain 


INTRODUCTORY  v 

to  discover — a  new  and  more  direct  route  from  the 
mother  country  to  the  East  Indies  and  the  Chinese 
Empire. 

Columbus  weighed  anchor  and  kept  sailing  from  one 
island  to  another,  hoping  to  find  Cathay,  or  China. 
But  temples,  palaces,  and  cities  did  not  appear.  In 
their  stead,  frail  houses  of  bark  and  of  reeds,  fields  of 
corn  and  of  grain,  and  simple-minded  natives,  came  to 
the  anxious  visions  of  the  explorers.  The  inhabitants 
of  these  sweet-scented  isles  could  tell  them  nothing  of 
the  deposits  of  gold,  or  the  palaces,  for  which  Columbus 
was  searching,  so,  day  after  day,  he  kept  on  his  way, 
diligently  scanning  each  new  point  of  land,  getting  a 
little  gold,  here  and  there,  from  the  Indians,  and  also 
some  pearls,  silver,  and  numerous  skins  of  the  beautiful 
birds  of  the  country. 

Finally  the  Spaniards  became  discouraged  with  their 
search  for  precious  metals,  and,  after  sailing  to  Cuba  to 
explore  the  coast  line,  their  most  trustworthy  vessel  was 
wrecked  by  a  sudden  and  unexpected  gale.  This  did 
not  dismay  the  gallant  Columbus,  although  a  few  of  his 
men  lost  heart,  and,  building  a  fortification  of  the  wood 
from  the  vessel,  he  left  a  garrison  to  defend  it,  pro 
visioned  them  for  a  year,  while  he  began  the  long  journey 
back  to  Spain.  With  him  went  a  few  of  the  native 
Indians,  who  were  carried  along  to  be  shown  to  the 
people  of  the  mother  country  and  to  prove  that  a  new 
world  had  really  been  discovered,  where  dwelt  another 
race.  They  reached  Spain  in  safety,  and  thus — for  the 
first  time  that  has  been  recorded — an  Indian  from 
America  was  seen  on  the  Continent  of  Europe. 


vi  INTRODUCTORY 

In  1502  Sebastian  Cabot,  an  English  adventurer, 
captured  three  natives  on  the  coast  of  Newfoundland, 
who  were  clothed  in  the  skins  of  the  beaver  and  the 
otter,  and  who  subsisted  upon  raw  flesh.  These  he  took 
with  him  to  England,  presented  them  to  King  Henry 
the  Seventh  and  to  the  members  of  his  court,  and, 
although  they,  at  first,  talked  in  a  strange  and  uncouth 
tongue,  they  soon  learned  the  language  of  their  captors 
and  discarded  their  native  dress  for  that  of  the  "pale 
faces."  They  were  the  first  Indians  ever  seen  in  Eng 
land,  and  what  eventually  became  of  them  is  not  known. 
Their  picturesque  appearance  created  a  great  impression 
upon  those  who  saw  them  and  stimulated  many  a  person 
of  adventuresome  temperament  to  sail  towards  America 
in  search  of  fortune  and  of  fame. 

But  the  Spaniards  and  the  Englishmen  were  not  the 
only  seafarers  who  were  sufficiently  brave  and  ad 
venturous  to  cross  the  Atlantic  in  search  of  the  un 
known.  In  1508  the  French  discovered  the  mouth  of 
the  Saint  Lawrence — that  mighty,  Canadian  watercourse 
— and  several  natives  were  seized  and  transported  to 
France  by  the  captain  of  the  expedition,  Thomas  Aubert. 
A  few  years  later — in  1524 — John  Verazzini  (an  Italian, 
sailing  under  the  French  flag),  sailed  along  the  coast 
and  anchored  in  several  places  before  he  touched  upon 
the  Connecticut  Coast,  where  twenty  of  his  men  went 
ashore  in  a  small  boat  and  walked  about  two  miles 
into  the  interior.  They  saw  a  number  of  Indians  who 
seemed  terrified  and  fled  before  their  advance,  but 
they  were  anxious  to  transport  some  of  the  inhabitants 
to  France,  so  captured  an  old  woman  who  had  hidden 


INTRODUCTORY  vii 

herself  in  some  tall  grass,  with  a  child  upon  her  back, 
and  two  little  boys  by  her  side.  A  young  girl  of  about 
eighteen  years  of  age  was  also  near  by,  but  when  the 
sailors  attempted  to  seize  her  she  uttered  such  loud 
and  piercing  shrieks  that  they  decided  to  leave  her  alone. 
The  old  woman  also  set  up  an  awful  wailing  when  they 
endeavored  to  carry  her  aboard  their  vessel,  so  they  con 
tented  themselves  with  taking  a  small  boy  to  their  ship, 
who  was  carried  to  far  distant  France.  America  was 
called  New  France  by  Verazzini,  who  returned  for  further 
exploration,  a  short  time  afterwards,  only  to  be  killed — 
and  some  say  eaten — by  the  Indians. 

When  Captain  Hendrik  Hudson — a  hardy  English 
adventurer — discovered  and  sailed  up  the  river  which 
bears  his  name  in  New  York  State,  in  the  year  1609, 
he  met  various  bands  of  Indians,  both  upon  the  waters 
of  the  mighty  stream  and  on  the  shore.  These,  at  first, 
were  inclined  to  be  friendly,  but  as  his  men  treated  them 
with  distrust,  and  would  not  greet  them  in  a  hospitable 
and  intimate  manner,  there  were  soon  skirmishes  with 
the  hostiles.  On  September  8th,  the  savages  came  on 
board  the  vessel  and  brought  tobacco  and  Indian  corn 
to  exchange  for  knives  and  beads.  They  offered  no 
violence  to  the  sailors  for  these  were  continually  on 
their  guard,  expecting  an  attack.  The  ship's  log  gives 
an  excellent  account  of  what  now  occurred. 

SEPTEMBER  9TH. 

''In  the  morning  two  great  canoes  came  on  board, 
full  of  men,  one  armed  with  bows  and  arrows.  Another 
pretended  to  buy  knives  in  order  to  betray  us,  but  we 


viii  INTRODUCTORY 

perceived  the  intention  of  the  red  devils.  So  we  took 
two  of  them  to  keep  them  as  hostages.  We  put  red 
coats  on  them  and  would  not  let  the  others  come  any 
where  near  us.  Soon  afterwards  the  canoes  left  us. 
Immediately  two  other  natives  came  on  board  of  us, 
one  we  took,  and  let  the  other  go,  but  he  soon  escaped  by 
jumping  over-board.'7 

SEPTEMBER  HTH. 

"The  ship  had  now  anchored  at  a  considerable 
distance  up  the  river.  The  people  of  the  country  came 
on  board,  making  a  great  show  of  love,  and  gave  us 
tobacco  and  Indian  wheat." 

SEPTEMBER  12rn. 

"This  morning  there  came  eight  and  twenty  canoes 
full  of  men,  women,  and  children  to  betray  us,  but  we 
saw  their  intent  and  suffered  none  of  them  to  come 
aboard.  They  have  great  tobacco  pipes  of  yellow 
copper,  and  pots  of  earth  to  dress  their  meat  in." 

That  the  savages  came  to  "betray  them"  was  no 
doubt  a  mistaken  idea  of  the  gallant  adventurers,  as 
Indians  rarely  go  upon  the  warpath  with  their  women 
and  children,  but  leave  them  at  home,  where  they  are 
out  of  danger. 

SEPTEMBER  15TH. 

"Hudson  sailed  twenty  leagues  (miles)  further  up 
the  stream,  passing  by  high  mountains.  This  morning 
the  two  captive  savages  got  out  of  a  port-hole  of  the 
ship  and  made  their  escape." 


INTRODUCTORY  ix 

SEPTEMBER  18TH. 

"The  Master's  Mate  went  on  shore  with  an  old 
Indian — a  Sachem  of  the  country — who  took  him  to 
his  house  and  treated  him  kindly." 

OCTOBER  IST. 

"The  ship  having  fallen  down  the  river  seven 
miles  below  the  mountains  (probably  the  site  of  the 
West  Point  Military  Academy)  came  to  anchor,  while 
one  man  in  a  canoe  kept  hanging  under  the  stern  and 
would  not  be  driven  off.  He  soon  contrived  to  climb 
up  by  the  rudder  and  got  into  the  cabin  window  which 
had  been  left  open,  and  from  which  he  stole  a  pillow, 
two  shirts,  and  two  breast-plates.  The  Mate  shot  him 
in  the  chest  and  killed  him.  Many  others  were  in  canoes 
around  the  ship  who  immediately  fled,  and  some  jumped 
over-board.  A  boat  manned  from  the  ship,  pursued 
them,  and,  coming  up  with  one  in  the  water,  the  Indian 
laid  hold  of  the  side  of  the  boat  and  endeavored  to  over 
set  it,  at  which  one  in  the  boat  cut  off  his  hands  with  a 
sword  and  he  was  drowned." 

OCTOBER  2ND. 

"The  ship  fell  down  seven  miles  farther  and  came 
to  anchor  again.  Then  came  one  of  the  savages  that 
swam  away  from  us  when  we  were  up  the  river,  with 
many  others,  thinking  that  he  could  betray  us,  but  we 
suffered  none  of  them  to  enter  our  ship.  Whereupon 
two  canoes  full  of  men  with  their  bows  and  arrows  shot 
at  us  after  our  stern,  in  recompense  whereof  we  dis 
charged  six  muskets  and  killed  two  or  three  of  them. 


x  INTRODUCTORY 

Then  above  a  hundred  of  them  came  to  a  point  to  shoot 
at  us.  Then  I  shot  a  musket  at  them  and  killed  two  of 
them,  whereupon  the  rest  fled  into  the  woods.  Yet 
they  manned  another  canoe  with  nine  or  ten  men, 
which  came  to  meet  us,  so  I  shot  a  ball  also  at  it,  and 
shot  it  through,  and  killed  one  of  them.  Then  our 
men,  with  their  muskets,  killed  three  or  four  more  of 
them." 

This  ends  the  record  of  Hudson's  skirmishes  with 
the  Indians,  and,  as  he  sailed  away  from  the  newly 
discovered  territory,  he  called  the  river  Manna-hata,  a 
name  which  appeared  in  all  the  early  maps  of  this 
district,  but  which  was  subsequently  changed  to  Hudson 
in  commemoration  and  glorification  of  its  discoverer. 

Although  the  sturdy  Hudson  had  not  taken  any  of 
the  natives  home  with  him,  still  earlier — in  1535 — the 
French  voyageur,  Jacques  Cartier,  met  a  famous  chief 
called  Donacona  upon  the  St.  Croix  River  in  Wisconsin, 
and  was  treated  in  a  hospitable  and  most  kindly  manner 
by  him.  But  the  white  adventurer  was  anxious  to  ex 
hibit  the  savage  in  France,  so,  partly  by  stratagem,  and 
partly  by  force,  he  carried  him  back  in  his  ship  to  his 
own  country,  where  the  wild  chieftain  died  soon  after 
wards  of  an  illness  brought  on  by  homesickness. 

So  runs  the  record  of  these  early  attempts  of  the 
Europeans  to  take  the  Indians  to  their  own  land  and  al 
low  their  own  people  to  see  what  strange  folk  inhabited 
this  new-found  country.  Many  then  wondered  from 
whence  these  copper-colored  natives  had  come  and  many 
have  since  speculated  upon  their  probable  origin.  It 
is  difficult  to  say  where  they  really  had  their  source. 


INTRODUCTORY  xi 

Some  are  of  the  opinion  that  they  were  descended  from 
Asiatic  people  who  crossed  to  the  Alaskan  coast,  in 
boats,  and  gradually  made  their  way  south,  to  populate 
the  entire  country  now  known  as  the  United  States. 
In  Ohio  and  Illinois  there  are  vast  piles  of  earth  built 
by  human  hands,  hundreds  of  years  ago.  These  mounds 
are  in  various  shapes  and  forms;  some  are  of  circular 
build;  some  round;  some  square;  others  thrown  up  to 
resemble  birds,  wolves,  and  buffalo.  There  are  ten 
thousand  such  mounds  in  Ohio,  and  near  the  city  of 
St.  Louis  is  a  single  mound  which  covers  eight  acres. 
The  people  who  constructed  these  are  known  as  the 
Mound  Builders,  and  it  is  believed  by  some  that  they 
were  a  different  race  of  people  than  the  Indians  whom 
Columbus  met  with  on  his  expedition  to  San  Salvador. 
By  others,  it  is  maintained  that  they  were  of  the  same 
blood,  and  when  the  early  discoverers  of  America  were 
searching  the  seacoast  for  gold,  pearls,  and  a  passage 
to  China,  the  Mound  Builders  were  constructing  these 
curious  cairns  in  many  portions  of  the  Middle  West. 

Many  hundreds  of  mounds  have  been  carefully 
opened  by  archaeologists — or  students  of  ancient 
people — and  their  contents  have  been  scrutinized  in 
order  to  discover  what  degree  of  civilization  these 
Mound  Builders  possessed.  It  has  been  found  that, 
although  the  Mound  Builders  were  familiar  with  the  use 
of  copper  for  ornaments  and  tools,  they  hammered  it 
from  the  native  ore,  and  knew  nothing  whatever  of 
smelting  or  of  casting.  Their  weapons  and  instruments 
were  mainly  of  quartz,  slate,  and  of  bone.  Many  carved 
pipes  have  been  found  in  their  works,  and  it  is  apparent 


xii  INTRODUCTORY 

that  they  cultivated  tobacco,  maize,  or  corn,  and  some 
other  vegetables.  Their  pottery  was  similar  to  that 
of  the  Mexican  Indians — although  inferior  to  it — and 
the  most  artistic  examples  of  it  are  certain  small  figures 
representing  animal  and  human  forms,  which  have  been 
found  broken  and  thrown  upon  funeral  pyres  beneath 
the  sepulchral  mounds.  Besides  the  copper — which 
came  from  mines  in  Lake  Superior,  still  operated  for 
this  treasure — the  excavations  showed  that  the  Mound 
Builders  used  an  abundance  of  mica,  brought  from  the 
mountains  of  North  Carolina,  pearls  from  the  Tennessee 
River,  shells  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  obsidian 
from  the  region  of  the  Yellowstone  Park  in  Wyoming. 
It  is,  therefore,  apparent  that  they  had  extensive  com 
mercial  relations  with  other  people  who  resided  near  by. 
On  the  banks  of  the  Damariscotta  River  in  Maine  are 
remarkable  heaps  of  shells  which  rise,  in  some  places, 
to  the  height  of  twenty-five  feet,  and  consist  almost 
entirely  of  huge  oyster  shells  of  from  ten  to  fifteen  inches 
in  length.  Fragments  of  pottery  and  bones  of  moose 
and  of  deer  are  also  found  in  these  curious  heaps,  and, 
at  the  bottom  of  one  of  the  highest,  has  been  discovered 
the  remains  of  an  ancient  fireplace  filled  with  human 
bones  and  pottery.  Curiously  enough,  similar  banks  of 
shells  are  found  in  the  St.  John's  River  in  Florida,  at 
Grand  Lake,  on  the  lower  Mississippi,  and  at  San  Pablo, 
Berkeley,  and  Alameda,  in  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 
Here  oysters  still  exist,  but  in  Maine  they  are  found  in 
such  small  numbers  that  it  is  no  object  to  gather  them. 
These  mounds  could  only  have  been  constructed  by 
human  hands,  and,  therefore,  the  belief  is  current  that 


INTRODUCTORY  xiii 

people  of  no  mean  order  of  intelligence  inhabited  America 
long  before  the  coming  of  the  first  white  men. 

Whether  the  Mound  Builders  and  shell-heap  con 
structors  were  ancestors  of  the  red  men,  it  is  difficult  to 
say,  at  any  rate  the  natives  with  whom  the  white  race 
were  soon  to  struggle  for  the  possession  of  the  Continent 
of  North  America  were  savage,  cruel,  vindictive  and 
slothful.  They  could  not  adopt  the  ways  of  the  white 
man.  They  could  not  learn  to  live  by  the  plough  in 
stead  of  the  hunting  rifle;  they  could  never  see  that 
houses  were  better  to  live  in  than  frail  wigwams  in  the 
forest,  and  so,  in  the  end,  the  superior  intelligence  of 
the  white  man  triumphed,  the  Indian  was  forced  into 
reservations  set  apart  for  him  and  his  race,  and  the 
country  was  populated  by  men  of  European  descent. 

In  the  long  struggle  for  the  possession  of  the  land, 
several  chiefs  arose  whose  qualities  of  mind  were  superior 
to  that  of  many  of  their  contemporaries.  The  names  of 
some  of  these  stand  out  brightly  upon  the  pages  of  history, 
and  the  records  of  their  deeds  and  daring  show  that  they 
were  Indians  who  possessed  a  bravery  quite  equal  to 
that  of  their  enemies,  even  if  their  other  qualities  were 
inferior.  Let  us,  therefore,  glance  at  their  illustrious 
names  and  learn  what  we  can  of  their  vain  attempts  to 
stem  the  unwithstandable  advance  of  the  white  race. 


CONTENTS 


PACK 

POWHATAN:   THE  GREAT  SACHEM  OF  VIRGINIA   .       .  i 

OPECHANCANOUGH:    THE  SCOURGE  OF  VIRGINIA  .       .  41 
SASSACUS   AND   UNCAS:     RIVAL   CHIEFTAINS   OF   THE 

PEQUOT  REBELLION 62 

MASSASOIT:    THE  GREAT  SACHEM  OF  THE  WAMPANOAGS 

AND  FRIEND  OF  THE  PURITANS         ....  79 

KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET 106 

PONTIAC:    THE  RED  NAPOLEON 151 

LOGAN:   THE  MIGHTY  ORATOR  AND  WARRIOR  OF  THE 

MINGOES     ...           209 

RED  JACKET,  OR  SA  -  GO  -  YE  -  WAT  -  HA:    THE  GREAT 

ORATOR  OF  THE  SENEGAS 230 

CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT:  THE  WARRIOR  CHIEF  OF  THE 

MOHAWKS 254 

LITTLE  TURTLE,  OR  MICHIKINIQUA:   THE  MIAMI  CON 
QUEROR  OF  HARMAR  AND  ST.  CLAIR        .       .       .  284 
TECUMSEH,    "  THE    SHOOTING    STAR:  "     CELEBRATED 

SHAWANOE  DIPLOMAT,  ORATOR  AND  SOLDIER       .  309 
WEATHERFORD:   THE  CREEK  CONSPIRATOR  AND  FEAR 
LESS  FIGHTER 338 

BLACK  HAWK:    CHIEF  OF  THE  SACS  AND  FOXES  AND 

LEADER  OF  THE  BLACK  HAWK  REBELLION    .       .  353 

OSCEOLA:    THE  SNAKE  OF  THE  FLORIDA  EVERGLADES  368 

ROMAN  NOSE:    THE  CUSTER  OF  THE  CHEYENNES       .  379 

GERONIMO:    THE  TERRIBLE  APACHE       ....  398 

RED  CLOUD:    THE  Sioux  VON  SEYDLITZ       .       .       .  410 
SITTING  BULL  AND  CRAZY  HORSE:   GENERAL  AND  ABLE 

LIEUTENANT  OF  THE  GREAT  Sioux  REBELLION    .  425 

CONCLUSION 456 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

SITTING  BULL  (See  page  425)     .       .       .       .      Frontispiece 

THE  MEETING  OF  MASSASOIT  AND  GOVERNOR  CARVER  86 

KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET 106 

PONTIAC  IN  COUNCIL           154 

RED  JACKET,  OR  SA-GO-YE-WAT-HA 232 

JOSEPH  BRANT,  OR  THAY-EN-DA-NEGEA  ....  264 

LITTLE  TURTLE,  OR  MICHIKINIQUA 286 

TECUMSEH 309 

DEATH  OF  TECUMSEH 337 

BLACK  HAWK 356 

OSCEOLA 368 

ROMAN  NOSE 38° 

GERONIMO 398 

RED  CLOUD 410 

AMERICAN  HORSE 436 

DEATH  OF  SITTING  BULL 44° 


FAMOUS     INDIAN 
CHIEFS 


POWHATAN:    THE  GREAT  SACHEM 
OF  VIRGINIA 

IN  the  year  1603  the  white  wings  of  an  English 
vessel  were  reflected  in  the  blue  waters  of  Chesa 
peake  Bay,  Virginia,  as  some  hardy  voyageurs  upon 
the  deck  of  the  ungainly-looking  craft  took  soundings 
of  the  depth  of  the  water,  admired  the  broad  expanse 
of  fertile  country,  and,  after  making  expeditions  into 
the  many  coves  and  estuaries,  sailed  away  again  for 
their  native  heath.  Hidden  by  the  overhanging  branches 
of  the  trees  which  grew  near  the  gleaming  ocean,  some 
suspicious  natives  watched  the  fair-skinned  strangers 
with  awe  and  apprehension.  They  were  followers  of 
Powhatan — Chief  of  the  Indians  of  seacoast  Virginia, 
and  one  of  the  most  remarkable  warriors  of  history. 
They  had  never  before  seen  the  features  of  a  white  man, 
and,  although  rumors  of  these  strange  people  who  came 
from  far-distant  lands  had  reached  them  from  the 
natives  who  lived  to  the  south,  these  were  the  first  pale 
faces  upon  whom  their  eyes  had  ever  rested.  As  the 

1 


2  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

new,  strange  vision  of  a  rakish  hull  and  flapping  canvas 
disappeared  upon  the  horizon,  they  turned  to  each 
other,  and  said,  with  smiling  countenances,  "It  is  well, 
they  will  not  return." 

These  savages  lived  in  villages  that  were  on,  or  near, 
the  banks  of  the  many  rivers  which  here  coursed  slowly 
to  the  Atlantic.  Their  wigwams  were  made  of  saplings 
tied  together  and  covered  with  reeds,  bark,  or  mats 
woven  from  native  grasses.  They  were  warmed  by 
means  of  a  fire  in  the  centre,  the  smoke  from  which 
passed  through  a  hole  in  the  roof.  Thus  they  were  com 
fortable  in  the  coldest  weather,  but  very  smoky  when 
the  wind  was  blowing  with  any  speed.  A  mat  was 
hung  across  the  doorway  to  keep  off  the  drafts  from 
the  exterior,  and  the  floor  was  covered  with  tanned  deer 
hides,  or  with  mats  of  considerable  thickness.  Some 
times  a  collection  of  these  cabins  was  surrounded  by 
palisades,  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  height,  and  thus  a  stout 
resistance  could  be  made  to  invading  bands  of  hostile 
Indians. 

The  dress  of  these  natives  was  scanty  enough,  except 
in  the  months  of  December,  January,  and  February, 
when  the  weather  was  really  cold.  Those  of  rank  wore 
a  mantle  of  skin  embroidered  with  beads,  during  the 
warm  months,  and  a  fur  covering  in  winter.  Their 
feet  were  enclosed  in  moccasins  of  deer  hide,  tanned  by 
a  long  and  tedious  process.  The  women  wore  a  long 
apron  of  deer  skin  and  deer-skin  leggins,  while  the  less 
prosperous  members  of  a  tribe  had  little  to  clothe  them 
selves  with  but  woven  grasses  and  turkeys'  feathers. 
En  summer  the  men  discarded  everything  but  a  breech 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM         3 

clout,  while  the  women  practically  went  without  cloth 
ing.  Both  sexes  colored  their  heads  and  shoulders  a 
brilliant  red,  with  a  mixture  of  powdered  puccoon-root 
and  oil,  while  the  belles  of  a  tribe  added  to  this  decora 
tion  by  tattooing  their  skins  with  figures  of  beasts  and 
of  serpents.  Besides  this,  they  would  punch  three  large 
holes  in  each  ear  and  from  these  would  hang  chains, 
bracelets,  and  copper  ornaments.  Sometimes  strings 
of  pearls  would  be  suspended  from  their  ears  and  wound 
about  their  waists,  while  the  warriors  would  often  wear 
small  green  and  yellow  snakes,  which  were  alive,  and 
would  be  attached  to  their  ears  so  that  they  could  crawl 
and  wrap  themselves  around  their  necks. 

A  quantity  of  Indian  corn,  or  maize,  was  grown  by 
these  Indians,  and  this  was  their  chief  means  of  sub 
sistence.  Corn  bread  was  the  staple  food,  although  an 
other  kind  of  bread  was  often  made  of  wild  oats  mixed 
with  sunflower  seed.  Their  meat  consisted  of  fish, 
deer,  wild  turkeys  and  other  game;  while  grubs,  locusts, 
and  snakes  were  also  a  portion  of  their  bill-of-fare.  From 
dried  hickory  nuts,  pounded  in  a  stone  basin,  and  mixed 
with  water,  they  made  a  drink  called  Pawcohicora, 
which  was  much  relished  at  feasts  and  banquets.  They 
lived  a  simple,  peaceful  life;  fought  little  with  the  sur 
rounding  tribes;  and  were  noted  for  the  great  age  which 
they  attained. 

When  called  to  battle  the  warriors  went  forth  with 
tomahawks,  arrows,  knives  and  war  clubs.  Their 
tomahawks  were  made  either  of  a  deer's  horn,  or  of  a 
long,  sharpened  stone  set  in  a  handle  like  a  pickaxe. 
Their  knives  were  made,  for  the  most  part,  of  stone,  but 


4  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

sometimes  shells  and  reeds  were  sharpened  for  this  pur 
pose.  A  stone  point  was  put  on  the  end  of  their  arrows 
and  they  were  winged  with  turkey  feathers  which  were 
fastened  with  a  glue  made  from  deers'  horns.  They 
often  carried  bark  shields  into  the  fray,  which  were 
woven  together  with  thread,  and  to  make  these  round 
in  shape,  a  file  was  used,  which  was  fashioned  from  a 
beaver's  tooth  set  in  a  forked  stick.  War  clubs  were  of 
round  stones,  pointed  at  the  ends,  and  held  by  a  long 
wooden  handle,  while  bow  strings  were  of  deer  hide  and 
sinews.  Thread  was  made  by  the  women  from  bark, 
deer  sinews,  or  from  grass. 

There  were  three  nations  in  the  country  which  ex 
tended  from  the  Atlantic  seacoast  to  the  Alleghenys, 
and  from  the  southern  waters  of  the  James  River  to  the 
Patuxent  (now  in  the  State  of  Maryland),  and  each  na 
tion  was  a  confederacy  of  larger  and  smaller  tribes, 
subdivided  into  towns,  families,  and  clans.  These  were 
the  Mannahoaks,  the  Monocans,  and  the  Powhatans; 
the  first  two  being  highland,  or  mountain  Indians  who 
lived  on  the  banks  of  various  small  streams  which  course 
through  the  hilly  country  between  the  falls  of  the  rivers, 
which  ran  to  the  Atlantic  and  the  Allegheny  ridge. 

The  Powhatan  nation  comprised  a  much  larger  num 
ber  of  tribes  than  the  others  and  inhabited  the  lowland 
nation  of  Virginia  from  North  Carolina,  on  the  south, 
to  the  Patuxent  on  the  north,  occupying  a  territory 
of  approximately  8,000  square  miles;  there  were  about 
2,400  warriors  in  all  and  about  8,000  women  and  chil 
dren,  not  a  large  number,  by  any  means,  for  such  a 
great  extent  of  territory. 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM         5 

Their  great  chief  Powhatan  had  been  a  splendid 
warrior  in  his  younger  days,  and,  although  he  was  heredi 
tary  chief  of  but  eight  tribes,  through  conquest  his 
dominions  had  expanded  until  they  reached  from  the 
James  to  the  Potomac  River,  and  included  thirty  or 
forty  tribes.  He  was  called  "King"  or  "Emperor," 
his  principal  warriors  were  lords  of  the  Kingdom,  his 
wives  were  queens,  his  daughter  was  a  princess. 

He  was  a  tall  and  well-proportioned  man,  and,  when 
the  English  settlers  at  Jamestown  first  saw  him,  was 
nearly  sixty  years  of  age,  sinewy,  strong,  his  head  some 
what  gray,  with  a  thin  beard,  and  a  sour  look  on  his 
countenance.  He  lived  sometimes  at  a  village  called 
Powhatan,  near  where  Richmond  now  stands,  and 
sometimes  at  Wer-o-woco-moco,  on  the  York  River. 

Pocahontas,  Powhatan 's  favorite  daughter,  was  born 
about  the  year  1594  and  was  one  of  eleven  girls  and 
twenty  sons.  We  know  nothing  about  any  of  his  sons 
except  Nateguas,  whom  the  English  claimed  to  be  the 
handsomest,  comeliest  and  boldest  among  all  the  savages. 
Powhatan  had  many  wives — exactly  how  many  is 
difficult  to  state — and  when  tired  of  one  he  would  pre 
sent  her  to  that  one  of  his  subjects  whom  he  considered 
to  be  the  most  deserving. 

At  each  of  the  villages  was  a  house  built  like  a  long 
arbor  for  Powhatan's  especial  reception,  and  when  he 
visited  one  of  his  towns,  a  feast  would  already  be  spread 
in  this  reception  hall,  so  that  he  could  immediately  seat 
himself,  with  his  companions,  and  partake  of  what  was 
in  store  for  him.  Besides  these  he  had  a  hunting  lodge 
in  the  wilderness  called  Orapax,  and  a  mile  from  this, 


6  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

deep  in  the  woods,  he  had  another  arbor-like  house, 
where  he  kept  furs,  copper,  pearls,  and  beads — treas 
ures  which  he  was  saving  to  be  placed  in  his  grave  at 
the  time  of  his  burial. 

A  large  number  of  canoes,  or  " dug-outs"  were  also 
a  part  of  Powhatan's  possessions,  and  of  these  he  was 
very  proud.  The  boats  were  manufactured  from  trees 
which  were  felled  by  fire  and  were  hollowed  out  by 
means  of  burning  and  scraping  with  shells  and  toma 
hawks. 

Forty  or  fifty  warriors  were  always  in  attendance  on 
this  powerful  monarch,  as  his  body  guard,  while  every 
night  four  sentinels  stood  at  the  four  quarters,  or  ends,  of 
his  cabin  and  every  half  hour  they  would,  in  turn,  utter 
a  shrill  war  whoop,  made  by  placing  the  finger  upon 
the  lips  and  halloing.  If  one  should  go  to  sleep,  or  fail 
to  answer  the  whoop  of  his  companion,  an  older  warrior 
would  soon  issue  from  Powhatan's  cabin  and  flail  the 
offender  with  a  stout  wooden  cudgel. 

The  Indians  seem  to  have  had  a  sort  of  idea  that  there 
was  some  superior  spirit,  God,  or  creator,  who  watched 
over  their  actions,  and  they  worshipped  an  idol,  or 
Okee,  who  represented,  not  a  good  spirit,  but  an  evil  one. 
Numerous  priests,  or  medicine  men,  were  always  to  be 
found  in  these  Virginia  tribes,  and  they  were  supposed 
to  cure  the  sick  by  means  of  divinations  and  conjura 
tions  which  were  very  noisy  and  grotesque.  These 
medicine  men  did  not  work,  themselves,  and  lived  a  life 
of  indolent  ease,  but  they  were  of  great  value,  as  the 
savages  dared  not  steal  from  one  another,  fearing  that 
these  priests  would  reveal  the  theft  by  means  of  their 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM        7 

conjuries,  and  then  bring  the  offender  into  such  disre 
pute  that  he  would  be  driven  out  of  the  tribe.  Their 
Okee,  or  God,  was  kept  in  a  temple  fashioned  from 
boughs  and  branches,  and  it  was  surrounded  with  posts 
on  which  hideous  faces  were  carved  from  soft  pine  wood 
and  painted  blue,  white,  and  vermilion. 

The  Indian  year  was  divided  into  five  seasons — bud 
ding  time,  roasting  ear  time,  summer  time,  the  fall  of 
the  leaf,  and  the  season  of  cold  or  winter.  The  savages 
amused  themselves  with  sham  fights,  or  with  dances, 
and  most  hideous  sounding  noises,  or  war  whoops,  as 
they  charged  forward  and  retreated  backward,  around 
in  a  circle.  Their  musical  instruments  consisted  of  a 
reed  cut  to  form  a  pipe,  a  drum  made  of  wood  with 
deer's  skin  stretched  on  the  end,  and  rattles  made  of 
gourds  or  pumpkins.  These  made  a  terrible  noise, 
which  frightened  more  than  delighted  the  first  white 
settlers.  When  they  had  a  distinguished  visitor,  they 
first  spread  a  mat  upon  the  ground  for  him  to  sit  upon 
and  then  sat  opposite  him  upon  another.  Then  all 
present  would  join  in  a  tremendous  shouting  to  bid  him 
welcome,  after  which  two  or  more  of  the  chief  men 
would  make  an  oration  in  which  they  testified  their  love 
and  admiration  for  the  visitor.  After  this  a  meal  would 
be  served  and  a  pipe  of  peace  would  be  passed  around. 

English  adventurers  had  attempted  to  form  a  colony 
at  Roanoke  Island,  just  off  the  Virginia  Coast,  but  it 
had  been  such  a  failure  that  the  ardor  of  English 
voyageurs  had  been  dampened  and  little  effort  had  been 
made  to  gain  a  foothold  in  Virginia.  But  the  Spaniards 
— their  great  rivals  and  enemies — had  made  numerous 


8  FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

successful  explorations  in  the  NeV  World,  so  that  the 
pride  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  was  piqued  and  their  cupidity 
was  aroused  by  the  wealth  the  Spanish  gold-seekers 
brought  back  to  their  own  land.  Thus,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  reign  of  James  I,  it  was  determined  to  send  ships 
and  settlers  to  America,  where  they  were  to  found  a 
colony,  search  for  gold,  and  ship  it,  when  discovered, 
home  to  the  mother  country.  There  were  several  pro 
moters  for  this  scheme;  one  was  a  London  merchant 
named  Wingfield,  another  a  clergyman  named  Hunt, 
still  another,  Bartholomew  Gosnold,  who  had  made  a 
successful  voyage  to  the  coast  of  New  England  several 
years  earlier.  The  most  important  was  Captain  John 
Smith,  a  gallant  soldier-of-fortune,  who  had  been  in 
numerous  adventures  of  a  startling  nature;  had  made 
many  journeys  in  Europe;  had  been  held  captive  by 
the  Saracens,  and  who  was  a  lover  of  all  that  was  hazard 
ous  and  full  of  danger.  He  was  now  twenty-eight  years 
of  age,  strong,  vigorous,  handsome  and  energetic. 

While  a  slave  in  the  Crimea  Smith  had  an  iron  collar 
fastened  about  his  neck,  was  clothed  in  the  skin  of  a 
wild  beast,  and  was  beaten  and  kicked  about  like  a  dog, 
until  his  life  was  nearly  unbearable.  But  one  day  he 
seized  a  flail  for  separating  wheat  from  chaff,  broke  his 
master's  skull  with  it,  and  then  put  on  his  clothes  and 
fled  to  Poland.  Here  he  was  aided  by  friends  until  he 
reached  Morocco,  where  he  joined  an  English  man-of- 
war,  and,  after  a  sanguinary  sea  battle,  arrived  in  Eng 
land  in  time  to  aid  the  adventurers  setting  sail  for  the 
shore  of  Virginia.  They  left  Blackwall,  and  dropped 
down  to  the  Thames  in  December,  1606,  with  three 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM         9 

ships,  one  of  which,  the  Discovery,  was  a  mere  sail  boat 
of  but  twenty  tons,  manned  by  an  equal  number  of 
staunch  souls,  sailing  over  unknown  seas  to  unknown 
lands. 

It  took  them  five  full  months  to  cross  the  Atlantic 
to  the  shores  of  the  New  World,  and  jealousy,  discord 
and  mutiny  had  played  havoc  with  the  spirits  of  the 
crew  by  the  time  that  land  was  sighted.  The  ships 
loitered  along,  and  at  the  Canary  Isles  and  the  West 
Indies  had  remained  so  long  that  the  provisions  were 
well  nigh  exhausted.  At  one  time  it  was  proposed  to 
hang  the  restless  Captain  John  Smith  to  the  yard-arm 
because  he  railed  at  their  delay  and  declared  the  majority 
of  the  crew,  "merely  projecting,  verbal  and  idle  contem- 
plators,"  who  expected  to  find  "feather  beds  and  down 
pillows,  taverns,  ale-houses  in  every  breathing  place," 
and  not  the  "dissolute  liberty  that  they  had  expected." 
As  luck  would  have  it,  a  storm  drove  the  vessels  into 
the  mouth  of  the  James  River,  Virginia,  and  past  two 
jutting  promontories  of  land  which  they  called  Cape 
Henry,  after  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  Cape  Charles, 
for  the  second  son  of  the  reigning  English  Monarch — 
afterwards  Charles  I. 

All  were  overjoyed  to  see  the  long-sought-for  Conti 
nent.  A  landing  was  made  on  Cape  Charles  by  thirty 
men,  but  they  were  suddenly  attacked  by  five  Indians, 
who  dangerously  wounded  two  of  the  soldiers  and  drove 
the  rest  back  to  the  ships.  .  In  spite  of  this,  the  spirits 
of  the  adventurers  were  mightily  cheered  by  the  sight 
of  the  beautiful  bay,  encompassed  by  a  fruitful  and 
delightful  land,  and  covered  with  forests  which  were 


10  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

magnificent  with  the  blossoms  of  red  wood  and  dog 
wood.  A  place  was  soon  selected  for  a  settlement, 
called  Jamestown,  which  was  on  such  low  ground  that 
it  was  not  considered  wholesome  by  many,  and  thus  a 
famous  debate  ensued.  Finally  it  was  decided  to  here 
build  a  blockhouse,  and  all  turned  to  with  some  will  to 
erect  the  first  habitation  of  white  settlers  among  Pow- 
hatan's  people.  Gosnold  had  strongly  opposed  the 
selection  of  this  place,  while  Captain  John  Smith  had  ap 
proved  of  it,  but  the  former's  advice  was  correct,  as  the 
current  of  the  river  has  turned  the  peninsula  of  James 
town  into  an  island,  and  now,  only  a  ruined  church 
tower  remains  to  mark  the  situation  of  the  first  colony 
of  Englishmen  in  the  United  States. 

Although  the  whites  fell  to,  with  spirit  and  enthusiasm, 
to  build  up  their  town,  unfortunately  most  of  them  were 
" gentlemen"  and  unaccustomed  to  any  form  of  work 
or  sustained  labor.  There  were  ruined  spendthrifts, 
broken  tradesmen,  fortune-hunters,  tipsters,  and  gam 
blers,  in  excess  of  some  real  workmen  in  the  shape  of 
four  carpenters,  one  bricklayer,  one  blacksmith,  and 
one  sailor.  A  barber  also  figured  in  the  rolls,  a  tailor,  a 
drummer,  and  four  half -grown  boys.  The  majority 
expected  to  find  nuggets  of  gold  lying  around  in  pro 
fusion,  and  not  danger,  disappointment,  severe  toil, 
starvation,  and  malaria. 

When  upbraided  by  Captain  John  Smith  for  not  show 
ing  more  enthusiasm  in  their  labor,  some  said,  "We  did 
not  come  here  to  work,  but  to  explore  and  find  gold." 

"Then  you  shall  not  eat,"  answered  the  quick 
tempered  Captain,  "for  the  labor  of  a  few  industrious 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       11 

men  shall  not  be  utilized  to  support  idle  loiterers  like 
yourselves." 

A  number  of  these  settlers  were  also  most  profane, 
and  so  the  Captain  kept  a  daily  account  of  every  man's 
oaths,  and,  as  proper  punishment,  had  a  can  of  cold 
water  poured  down  an  offender's  sleeve  for  each  foul 
word.  This  had  some  effect,  but  Smith  was  well  dis 
gusted  with  their  lack  of  ability  to  do  anything,  and 
wrote  to  the  company  in  England  who  had  furnished  the 
resources  to  the  colony:  "When  you  send  again,  I  entreat 
you  to  send  thirty  carpenters,  husbandmen,  gardeners, 
fishermen,  blacksmiths,  or  diggers-up  of  roots,  who  would 
be  better  than  a  thousand  of  such  as  we  have." 

The  Indians  meanwhile  had  become  aware  of  the  pur 
poses  of  the  whites  to  dispossess  them  of  their  terri 
tory,  so  they  turned  treacherous,  and,  although  they  en 
tered  into  no  open  hostilities,  began  to  skulk  about  the 
fort.  After  bringing  in  presents  of  corn  and  venison, 
they  would  often  steal  anything  which  they  could  safely 
carry  off.  They  showed  by  their  looks  and  dispositions 
that  they  were  extremely  jealous  of  the  whites,  and, 
when  exploring  parties  were  sent  into  the  interior,  sud 
denly  attacked  the  fort  with  about  two  hundred  braves. 
These  were  driven  away  by  means  of  the  guns  of  the 
ship,  after  an  hour's  fight,  and  after  subjecting  the  de 
fenders  of  Jamestown  to  a  loss  of  eleven  men  wounded 
and  one  boy  killed.  The  noise  of  the  cannon  really 
frightened  the  attackers  away,  and  for  some  days  they 
hung  around  the  stockade,  so  that  it  was  not  safe  to 
venture  beyond  the  range  of  the  muskets,  unless  one 
wished  to  be  tomahawked  by  some  lurking  savage. 


12  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Powhatan  had  received  word  of  the  coming  of  the 
whites  through  scouts  and  runners,  and  he  was  soon  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  the  hardiest  and  most  enter 
prising  of  them  all,  an  acquaintance  that  was  to  mark  the 
turning  point  in  his  career  of  undisputed  sovereign  over 
tide- water  Virginia;  for  the  adventurous  and  ambitious 
spirit  of  Smith  had  prompted  him  to  make  several  ex 
peditions  both  along  the  coast  and  into  the  interior  of 
this  densely  wooded  country.  A  few  months  after  the 
settlement  of  Jamestown  came  a  time  of  threatened 
starvation,  but  the  gallant  Captain  discovered  the  tribe 
of  Chickahominy  Indians,  and  from  them  gained  a  large 
store  of  corn  which  revived  the  fainting  spirits  of  those 
in  the  little  fort  upon  the  malarial  peninsula. 

In  spite  of  this  there  were  many  who  decried  what 
Smith  had  done  and  said  that  he  should  have  gone  to 
the  head-waters  of  the  Chickahominy  River  and  should 
not  have  returned  without  discovering  the  source  of  this 
stream.  The  idle  and  unruly  in  the  colony  complained 
that  he  had  accomplished  very  little,  and  not  sufficient 
to  be  applauded.  Stung  by  their  taunts,  the  spirited 
Captain  again  set  forth  (in  the  winter  of  1607-8)  to 
ascend  the  waters  of  the  river.  He  took  with  him  a 
crew  sufficient  to  manage  a  good-sized  barge,  to  which 
was  attached  a  small  " tender/'  or  jolly-boat,  which 
could  go  over  shoal  water  and  into  bays  and  coves  along 
the  banks  of  the  stream.  With  these  he  ascended  the 
Chickahominy  as  far  as  possible,  and  then,  leaving  the 
barge  in  a  broad  cove  where  lurking  Indians  could  not 
steal  it,  he  pushed  still  farther  up  the  stream  in  the 
tender,  accompanied  by  two  other  white  men  and  two 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       13 

friendly  Indians.  Those  left  behind  were  strictly  urged 
not  to  go  ashore. 

But  the  sound  advice  was  ignored  by  the  foolish 
fellows  in  the  barges,  and,  as  soon  as  the  bold  Captain 
was  out  of  sight,  they  scrambled  to  land  and  proceeded 
to  explore  the  country.  Their  rashness  came  near  being 
the  cause  of  their  annihilation,  as  fully  two  hundred 
and  fifty  Indians  were  lying  in  wait  for  them  in  the 
thicket.  Under  the  direction  of  Opechancanough— 
Sachem  of  the  Pamunkies  and  reputed  brother  of  Pow- 
hatan — they  made  a  sudden  rush  for  the  white  men, 
but,  although  the  attack  was  unexpected,  they  only  suc 
ceeded  in  capturing  one  George  Cassen,  whom  they  com 
pelled  to  tell  them  which  way  Smith  had  gone.  After 
securing  this  information,  they  put  the  unfortunate  cap 
tive  to  death  in  a  cruel  manner,  and  struck  off  through 
the  tangled  undergrowth  in  pursuit  of  the  adventurous 
English  colonizer. 

The  bold  Captain  had  gone  twenty  miles  up  the  river 
to  the  source  of  the  Chickahominy,  and,  after  poling 
through  several  marshes,  had  waded  ashore  with  his 
Indian  guide,  to  secure  some  game  with  his  musket  for 
supper.  The  two  Englishmen  who  were  with  him  had 
hauled  up  their  boat  and  were  lying  down  to  sleep  near  a 
fire,  when  they  were  suddenly  set  upon  by  the  Indians, 
who  shot  them  full  of  arrows  and  killed  them.  Then 
the  crafty  braves  spread  through  the  woodland  in  search 
of  Captain  Smith,  whom  they  soon  overtook  and  sur 
rounded,  but  the  brave  settler  was  not  to  be  captured 
without  a  struggle,  so,  when  he  perceived  that  it  would 
be  useless  for  him  to  escape,  he  tied  the  young  Indian 


14  FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

who  was  with  him  to  his  arm  (what  happened  to  the  other 
friendly  Indian  who  was  with  him  is  not  known)  and, 
holding  him  in  front  of  him  as  a  shield,  fired  at  the 
enemy  and  soon  had  three  of  them  dead.  He  wounded 
so  many  others  that  they  did  not  seem  over-anxious  to 
approach  him.  Meanwhile  the  savages  kept  up  a  vigor 
ous  fire  with  their  bows  and  arrows;  wounded  the  Cap 
tain  slightly  in  the  thigh,  and  shot  many  shafts  into  his 
clothes,  but  he  still  kept  them  off  and  walked  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  shore.  As  luck  would  have  it,  he  suddenly 
slipped  and  fell  into  the  bed  of  a  quagmire  which  he  had 
not  noticed  as  he  kept  his  eye  upon  the  foe.  Sinking  in 
the  mud  up  to  his  armpits,  and  discovering  at  last  that 
he  .was  becoming  benumbed  with  cold,  he  threw  away 
his  sword,  musket,  and  pistol,  and  made  signs  that  he 
would  surrender.  The  Indians  soon  approached,  drew 
him  out,  carried  him  to  a  fire,  and  carefully  rubbed  his 
body  until  he  was  able  to  stand  up,  for  the  cold  quagmire 
had  so  benumbed  him  that  he  could  not  use  his  limbs. 

Meanwhile  the  Englishman  was  devising  some  means 
of  escape,  and  asked  to  see  the  leader  of  the  Indians. 
Opechancanough  was  pointed  out  to  him,  and,  with 
quick  presence  of  mind,  Smith  drew  forth  the  only  trinket 
which  he  had  with  him,  a  round,  ivory  compass  with  a 
double  dial,  and  presented  it  to  the  Indian  Chieftain 
with  a  low  and  courteous  bow.  The  savages  all  crowded 
around  with  eager  curiosity  and  were  perfectly  astonished 
when  they  put  forth  their  hands  to  touch  the  trembling 
needle  and  could  not  do  so.  Smith,  meanwhile,  lectured 
to  them  upon  geography  and  astronomy,  telling  them 
that  the  sun  continually  chased  the  moon  around  the 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       15 

earth,  that  the  earth  and  skies  were  round,  and  many 
other  stories  which  were  then  current  and  were,  of 
course,  as  wide  of  being  the  truth  as  were  the  Indians' 
own  ideas.  However,  the  savages  stood  amazed  with 
admiration,  and,  although  apparently  pleased  with  what 
the  Captain  had  told  them,  made  preparations  to  exe 
cute  him  and  tied  him  to  a  tree.  As  many  as  could 
stand  in  range  now  took  aim  at  him  with  their  bows 
and  arrows.  At  this  moment  Opechancanough  held  up 
the  ivory  compass  as  a  signal  for  clemency,  and  the 
Indians  threw  down  their  bows  and  arrows  and  gave 
up  all  attempts  to  put  an  end  to  the  brave  Englishman. 

Now,  forming  in  Indian  file,  the  prisoner  was  carried 
to  the  village  of  Orapax  by  the  savages,  and,  upon  ap 
proaching  the  town,  they  were  met  by  all  the  women  and 
children,  who  stared  at  the  white  man  in  wonder  and 
amazement,  for  it  was  the  first  " paleface"  that  they 
had  ever  seen.  A  war  dance  was  next  begun  around  the 
terrified  Captain,  and  the  savages  screeched,  sang,  and 
yelled  so  wildly  that  the  Englishman  was  sure  that  he 
had  fallen  among  demons.  But  this  affair  was  soon 
over,  the  Captain  was  taken  into  a  long  house,  and  here 
was  guarded  by  full  forty  Indians,  while  corn  bread  and 
venison  was  brought  to  him  that  would  have  been 
sufficient  to  have  fed  forty  men.  He  was  given  a  warm 
mantle,  as  it  was  extremely  cold,  and  each  morning 
three  women  presented  him  with  three  platters  of  fine 
bread  and  more  venison  than  ten  men  could  eat.  Thus 
he  spent  his  days  quietly,  his  mind  intent  upon  an  escape 
as  soon  as  the  proper  opportunity  should  present  itself. 

The   gallant    Captain    now   astonished   the    Indians 


16  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

greatly  by  writing  a  letter  to  Jamestown,  for  how  anyone 
could  communicate  to  another  by  means  of  marks  upon 
a  piece  of  paper  was  a  marvel  to  the  simple-minded 
braves.  He  had  torn  a  sheet  from  his  memorandum 
book  and  had  written  to  the  Colonists,  informing  them 
that  the  Indians1  were  contemplating  an  attack  and  giv 
ing  them  instructions  to  terrify  the  bearers  of  the  note 
and  to  send  him  several  articles.  The  Indians  under 
took  the  journey,  although  it  was  in  the  bitter  cold  of  an 
unusual  winter.  When  they  neared  Jamestown  and  saw 
the  soldiers  come  out  from  the  stockade,  as  Smith  said 
that  they  would  do,  the  fulfillment  of  his  prophecy  so 
frightened  them  that  they  fled  panic-stricken,  but  left 
the  note  behind  them  on  the  ground.  As  night  fell,  they 
crept  stealthily  to  the  spot  where  Captain  Smith  had 
told  them  they  would  find  an  answer,  and,  there,  indeed, 
were  the  very  articles  which  he  had  promised  them  they 
would  discover.  The  savages  were  surprised  and  awed  by 
this  show  of  what  they  supposed  to  be  divine  fire,  and, 
giving  up  all  idea  of  attacking  Jamestown,  led  Smith 
from  village  to  village  until,  at  length,  he  was  carried 
to  Wer-o-woco-moco,  the  residence  of  the  great  chief 
Powhatan,  situated  on  the  Pamunkey  (York)  River,  in 
Gloucester  county,  about  twenty-five  miles  below  the 
mouth  of  the  stream;  and  at  this  time  the  great  chief's 
favorite  habitation.  He  afterwards  retired  to  Orapax 
as  he  did  not  desire  a  residence  near  the  English. 

After  his  arrival  at  the  village,  Smith  was  kept  wait 
ing  while  more  than  two  hundred  warriors  stood  wonder 
ing  at  him  as  if  he  were  a  monster,  and  until  Powhatan 
could  make  ready  to  receive  him.  After  the  old  warrior 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       17 

had  decked  himself  in  his  greatest  bravery,  the  Eng 
lishman  was  admitted  to  his  presence,  while  the  Indians 
hailed  his  entrance  with  a  tremendous  shout.  The 
Emperor  was  proudly  lying  upon  a  bedstead  a  foot  high, 
raised  upon  ten  or  twelve  mats.  His  neck  was  hung 
with  chains  of  pearls,  and  his  body  was  covered  with 
raccoon  skins.  A  woman  sat  at  his  head  and  another  at 
his  feet,  while,  on  each  side,  upon  the  ground,  were 
ranged  his  chief  men,  ten  in  rank,  and  behind  them  as 
many  young  women,  each  having  a  chain  of  white 
beads  over  her  shoulders  and  with  her  head  painted 
red.  The  Queen  of  Appomattuck  was  appointed  to 
bring  the  Captain  water  in  which  to  wash  his  hands, 
while  another  brought  a  bunch  of  feathers,  instead  of  a 
towel,  to  dry  them  with.  Many  of  Powhatan's  retain 
ers  had  their  hair  decked  with  the  white  down  of  birds, 
and  none  were  without  an  ornament  of  some  kind. 

Two  accounts  of  what  now  occurred  were  published 
by  Smith  in  London.  In  the  first  Pocahontas  is  not 
mentioned;  in  the  second,  he  tells  a  long  story  to  the 
effect  that  she  saved  his  life.  The  first  account  was 
written  shortly  after  the  gallant  Captain  returned  to 
England  in  the  year  following;  the  second,  sixteen 
years  later,  and  after  he  had  had  time  to  reflect  and  to 
color  his  narrative  in  proper  contemplation  and  leisure. 
Doubt  has,  therefore,  been  cast  upon  the  second  story, 
but  I  shall  give  you  them  both  and  allow  you  to  select 
your  own  conclusion. 

In  the  first  narrative  the  Captain  says  that,  "Pow- 
hatan  kindly  welcomed  me  with  good  words  and  great 
platters  of  sundry  victuals,  assuring  me  of  his  friendship 


18          FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

and  my  liberty  within  four  days.  He  promised  to  give 
me  corn,  venison,  or  what  I  wanted  to  feed  us.  Hatchets 
and  copper  we  should  make  for  him,  and  none  were  to 
disturb  us.  This  I  promised  to  perform,  and  thus  hav 
ing,  with  all  the  kindness  he  could  devise,  sought  to  con 
tent  me,  he  sent  me  home." 

In  the  second  account,  the  valiant  Smith  states  that, 
"  Having-  feasted  him  (Smith)  after  the  best  barbarous 
manner  they  could,  a  long  consultation  was  held,  but 
the  conclusion  was,  two  great  stones  were  brought  be 
fore  Powhatan;  then  as  many  as  could  lay  hands  on 
him  dragged  him  to  them  and  thereon  laid  his  head, 
and,  being  ready  with  the  clubs  to  beat  out  his  brains, 
Pocahontas — the  King's  dearest  daughter — when  no 
entreaty  could  prevail,  got  his  head  in  her  arms  and  laid 
her  own  against  his  to  save  him  from  death;  whereat 
the  Emperor  was  contented  that  he  should  live  in  order 
to  make  him  hatchets,  and  her,  bells,  beads,  and  copper, 
for  they  thought  him  as  well  capable  of  all  occupations 
as  themselves."  This  version  has  usually  been  accepted 
by  historians. 

When  Powhatan  asked  Smith  why  the  English  had 
come,  the  keen-witted  Captain  was  very  careful  to  let 
him  know  that  they  had  not  arrived  to  settle  in  the 
country,  but  stated  that  there  had  been  a  fight  with  the 
Spaniards  and  that  the  English  had  been  forced  to  re 
treat  in  their  vessels;  that  finally  adverse  weather  had 
driven  them  ashore  in  Virginia,  and  here  they  were  only 
to  remain  until  an  opportunity  presented  itself  for  a  safe 
return.  Smith  was  a  ready  talker,  but  there  is  no  evi 
dence  that  Powhatan  believed  him. 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       19 

Two  days  after  the  trial  for  his  life,  Powhatan  had  the 
captive  removed  to  one  of  his  arbor-like  dwellings  in 
the  woods  and  there  left  him  alone  upon  a  skin  in  front 
of  the  fire.  The  house  was  curtained  off  in  the  centre 
with  a  thick  mat,  and  soon  a  doleful  noise  came  from 
behind  it,  and  Powhatan,  disguised  in  a  strange  manner 
and  painted  black,  entered  the  room  with  two  hundred 
Indians,  likewise  painted  with  this  color.  After  dancing 
around  the  amused  Captain  for  a  while,  Powhatan  told 
Smith  that  they  were  friends,  and  that  he  would  pres 
ently  send  him  home,  but  that  he  must  promise  him  that 
after  he  arrived  in  Jamestown  he  would  send  him  two 
great  guns  and  also  a  grindstone.  In  return  for  this  he 
was  promised  the  country  of  Capahowosick,  and  he  was 
told  that  he  would  be  considered  Powhatan's  son.  The 
Captain  promised  to  deliver  the  requested  supplies,  and 
consequently  he  was  sent  to  Jamestown  with  twelve 
guides,  who  delayed  on  the  way,  although  the  distance 
was  short,  so  that  Smith  feared  every  hour  that  he  would 
be  put  to  death.  But,  at  last,  he  was  conducted  to  the 
fort,  where  he  treated  the  savage  guides  with  great 
hospitality,  and  gave  to  Rawhunt  (a  trusty  servant  of 
Powhatan)  two  cannon  carrying  nine-pound  shot, 
and  a  mill-stone,  to  present  to  the  chief.  For  their 
benefit  the  Captain  had  the  guns  loaded  with  stones  and 
fired  at  some  trees  whose  boughs  were  covered  with 
icicles.  The  crash  and  fall  of  stones  and  ice  so  fright 
ened  the  savages  that  they  fled  into  the  forest  and  it  was 
several  hours  before  they  could  be  induced  to  return. 
At  last,  their  spirits  became  reassured,  presents  of  beads 
and  trinkets  were  given  them  for  Powhatan  and  his 


20  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

family,  and  they  started  back  to  the  great  chief,  well 
satisfied. 

The  conditions  at  Jamestown  were  appalling,  for  a 
number  of  men  were  about  to  desert,  seize  the  smallest 
vessel,  and  make  off  for  England.  But  Smith  was  equal 
to  the  occasion,  forced  the  mutineers  to  remain  at  home 
at  the  mouth  of  a  cannon,  and,  although  he  himself  was 
tried  for  the  death  of  Robinson  and  Emry — the  two  men 
who  had  been  killed  in  the  expedition  up  the  Chicka- 
hominy — he  was  set  free  by  the  intercession  of  Captain 
Newport,  who  soon  whipped  the  squabbling  colonists 
into  some  sort  of  order.  Meanwhile  their  despairing 
spirits  were  buoyed  up  by  accounts  of  Powhatan's 
bounty  and  treasure,  while  every  four  or  five  days  little 
Pocahontas  with  her  attendants  would  .cross  the  river 
and  come  to  the  fort  with  provisions  of  bread  and  corn. 
This  was  all  that  stood  between  the  wrangling  "  gentle 
men"  and  starvation. 

Powhatan,  meanwhile,  seems  to  have  regarded  the 
English  with  no  particular  suspicion  or  hatred.  When 
Newport  and  Smith  visited  him  during  the  winter,  he 
exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  give  them  a  royal  enter 
tainment.  The  Indians  shouted  with  joy  when  next 
they  saw  Smith;  orations  were  addressed  to  him  and 
a  bounteous  repast  of  roasted  corn,  bread,  and  venison 
was  spread  before  the  company.  Powhatan,  himself, 
received  the  Englishmen,  reclining  upon  a  bed  of  mats, 
dressed  in  a  handsome  fur  robe,  and  leaning  upon  a 
pillow  embossed  with  brilliant  embroidery  of  shells 
and  beads.  The  chief  men  of  the  village  were  assembled 
before  him  and  four  or  five  hundred  of  the  tribe  stood  on 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       21 

guard  behind  them.  A  proclamation  was  made  to  the 
effect  that  upon  pain  of  death  no  Indian  should  offer 
any  discourtesy  to  either  of  the  whites,  while  Powhatan 
renewed  his  acquaintance  with  Smith  with  much  show 
of  apparent  affection.  An  English  boy,  named  Savage, 
was  given  to  the  Indian  Emperor  at  his  request,  and  he 
returned  the  favor  by  presenting  to  Captain  Newport 
an  Indian  youth  called  Nomontack,  who  was  one  of  his 
most  trusted  servants,  and  who  was  told  to  spy  upon 
all  methods  and  customs  of  the  English.  Three  or  four 
days  were  passed  in  feasting,  dancing,  and  trading,  in 
which  the  old  Sachem  exhibited  so  much  dignity  and 
discretion  that  his  guests  had  a  high  admiration  for  his 
talents.  His  shrewdness  was  well  exhibited  when 
Newport  endeavored  to  barter  with  him  for  some  corn. 

The  English  Captain  had  brought  with  him  a  number 
of  trinkets,  glass  beads,  and  pewter  spoons  which  he 
expected  to  trade  very  easily  for  corn,  and,  indeed,  the 
poorer  Indians  traded  very  readily  with  him.  But  they 
dealt  upon  a  very  small  scale  as  they  had  not  much 
to  spare,  so  Newport  became  most  anxious  to  drive  a 
trade  with  the  Emperor,  himself,  and  endeavored  to 
do  so. 

"Captain  Newport/'  said  Powhatan,  "it  is  not  agree 
able  to  my  greatness  to  truck  and  peddle  for  trifles.  I 
am  a  great  Werowance  and  I  esteem  you  the  same; 
therefore  lay  all  your  trading  commodities  down  together 
and  what  I  like  I  will  take,  and  in  return  you  shall  re 
ceive  what  I  consider  to  be  a  fair  value  therefore." 

As  Newport  could  not  speak  the  Indian  tongue,  this 
was  interpreted  to  him  by  Smith,  who  told  him,  at  the 


22  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

same  time,  that  he  must  be  most  careful  in  trading  with 
the  crafty  Indian,  and  should  not  be  too  free  in  his 
dealings  with  him.  But  Newport  was  a  vain  fellow 
and  felt  that  he  could  easily  hold  his  own  with  the 
Emperor  and  gain  any  request  that  he  might  make,  so 
he  placed  all  of  his  goods  before  Powhatan,  who  coolly 
selected  those  which  he  liked  most,  and  gave  him,  in 
return,  only  a  few  bushels  of  corn  when  he  had  expected 
to  obtain  twenty  hogsheads.  ''  At  this  rate/'  inter 
posed  Captain  Smith,  "we  might  have  purchased  our 
corn  in  Old  Spain,  but  now  le.t  me  see  if  I  cannot  traffic 
with  his  excellency,"  and,  so  saying,  he  took  out  various 
trinkets  which  he  flashed  before  the  eyes  of  the  aged 
Indian,  in  the  light,  so  that  they  shone  with  an  extra 
ordinary  lustre. 

Powhatan's  eyes  rested  upon  a  string  of  blue  beads, 
and  he  became  anxious  to  obtain  them. 

"  These  are  such  as  only  Kings  and  Nobles  wear  in  our 
country,"  said  Smith,  "and  of  immense  value.  For  a 
string  of  beads  you  must  give  me  three  hundred  bushels 
of  corn." 

"That  I  cannot  do,"  answered  Powhatan,  "but  so 
desirous  am  I  of  having  them  that  I  will  give  you  two 
hundred  bushels." 

"For  two  hundred  and  fifty  bushels  you  can  have 
them,"  answered  Smith. 

And  so  they  haggled,  until,  in  the  end,  the  witty 
Captain  Smith  obtained  somewhere  between  two  and 
three  hundred  bushels  of  corn  for  a  small  and  insig 
nificant  string  of  beads.  Shortly  afterwards  the  cunning 
Englishman  made  a  similar  trade  with  Opechancanough 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       23 

at  Pamunkey,  stating  to  him  that  these  beads  had  in 
them  the  color  of  the  sky  and  that  they  were  composed 
of  a  most  rare  substance.  This  Indian  likewise  fell 
before  the  lure  of  the  Captain's  plausible  and  ready 
speech,  and  several  hundred  bushels  of  corn  were  secured 
for  a  pound  or  two  of  these  beads,  which  now  grew  into 
such  estimation  among  the  Indians,  far  and  near,  that 
none  but  the  great  Werowances  and  their  wives  and 
children  dared  to  be  seen  wearing  them.  They  were  con 
sidered  to  be  imperial  symbols  and  of  enormous  value. 
Although  tricked  in  this  transaction,  Powhatan  was 
bright  enough  to  see  that  the  English  possessed  a  vast 
advantage  over  his  own  men  whenever  it  came  to  a  con 
flict,  for  they  had  swords  and  muskets,  whereas  his 
savage  followers  only  possessed  bows,  spears,  and  arrows. 
He  knew  that  if  he  obtained  possession  of  these  he  would 
be  able  to  place  himself  upon  an  equal  footing  with  the 
Colonists  and  would  also  be  able  to  domineer  over  the 
less  fortunate  Indian  tribes  of  Virginia.  Consequently 
when  he  learned  that  Captain  Newport  was  to  leave  for 
England,  he  sent  him  twenty-five  turkeys  and  requested, 
in  return,  the  favor  of  an  equal  number  of  swords. 
Newport  was  sufficiently  inconsiderate  to  furnish  them 
to  him,  but  these  were  not  enough  for  Powhatan,  who, 
soon  afterwards,  sent  a  number  of  turkeys  to  Smith. 
The  Captain  was  keen  enough  to  see  through  the  trick 
of  the  old  gentleman,  and,  although  he  thanked  him  for 
his  kindness  with  a  courteous  note,  he  sent  no  swords  in 
return.  Powhatan  was  highly  offended  at  this  and  told 
his  followers  to  steal  the  Englishmen's  swords  whenever 
they  could — an  order  which  they  began  to  obey  with  such 


24  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

good  effect  that  Smith  ordered  every  Indian  caught 
stealing  to  be  tied,  severely  whipped,  and  kept  captive. 
The  Emperor  of  the  Virginia  savages  now  saw  that  the 
game  was  a  desperate  one  and  so  sent  Pocahontas  into 
Jamestown  with  various  presents  and  kind  speeches  to 
excuse  himself  for  the  injury  done  by  his  disorderly 
warriors  and  to  request  that  those  who  were  captives 
might  be  liberated.  Smith  took  this  under  considera 
tion  and  finally  granted  the  Emperor's  request,  "for 
the  sake  of  Pocahontas,  his  daughter,"  dispatching  the 
captured  warriors  back  to  Powhatan's  village,  where  the 
Indian  counsellors  were  much  offended  at  what  they 
considered  to  be  the  cruelty  of  the  white  man,  and 
adjured  Powhatan  to  seek  revenge.  The  Emperor 
affected  to  be  satisfied  and  would  take  no  action. 

Newport  had  sailed  for  England,  and  in  September, 
1608,  arrived  with  a  second  supply  for  the  colony  and 
a  paper  authorizing  him  to  make  an  expedition  of  ex 
ploration  for  gold  among  the  Monocan  Indians,  who  re 
sided  in  the  Blue  Ridge.  For  this  a  barge  was  brought 
out  from  England  which  could  be  separated  into  five 
parts  and  thus  carried  around  the  falls  of  the  Potomac, 
and  thence  convey  the  explorers  (as  was  supposed  in 
England)  to  the  South  Sea.  It  had  been  decided  by  the 
London  company,  in  England,  to  crown  Powhatan  and 
present  him  with  a  basin  and  ewer,  a  bedstead,  bedding, 
and  various  other  costly  novelties.  Captain  Smith 
offered  to  carry  them  to  Powhatan  at  We-ro-woco-moco 
and  to  invite  him  to  visit  Jamestown,  for  Newport  was 
anxious  to  obtain  a  quantity  of  corn  in  order  to  feed  his 
followers  in  search  for  the  South  Sea. 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       25 

Starting  for  We-ro-woco-moco  by  boat,  Smith  landed, 
and,  with  four  companions,  went  through  the  woods 
for  about  twelve  miles,  until  he  arrived  at  Powhatan's 
village.  He  found  that  the  renowned  chief  was  absent, 
but  he  soon  returned  and  listened  with  great  gravity 
to  the  speech  of  the  subtle  Englishman,  who  not  only 
invited  him  to  come  to  Newport,  but  also  to  join  with 
the  whites  in  a  campaign  against  the  Monocans.  To  this 
the  King  of  the  Powhatans  replied: 

"If  your  King  has  sent  me  presents,  I  also  am  a  King 
and  this  is  my  land.  Here  I  will  stay  eight  days  to  re 
ceive  these  gifts.  Your  Father  must  come  to  me,  not  I 
to  him,  nor  yet  to  your  fort.  I  will  not  bite  at  such  a 
treacherous  bait.  As  for  the  Monocans,  I  can  avenge 
my  own  injuries.  As  for  Atquanachuck,  where  you 
say  your  brother  was  slain,  it  is  a  country  away  from 
those  parts  you  say  it  is,  and  as  for  salt  water  behind 
the  mountains,  the  stories  which  my  people  have  told 
you  to  this  effect,  are  false."  Whereupon  he  began 
to  draw  the  geography  of  these  regions  upon  the  ground 
with  a  stick,  and,  after  further  talk,  Smith  returned  to 
Jamestown  and  told  Newport  to  bring  the  presents  to 
We-ro-woco-moco . 

The  various  gifts  from  King  James  were  therefore  sent 
to  the  Indian  village  by  water,  while  the  Captain  with 
a  guard  of  fifty  men  went  by  boat.  The  day  following 
the  arrival  of  the  whites  was  agreed  upon  for  the  corona 
tion  and  so  the  presents  were  brought  ashore,  the  bed 
and  furniture  were  set  up,  and,  in  spite  of  his  struggles, 
the  scarlet  cloak  and  other  apparel  was  put  upon  the 
unwilling  Po  what  an.  He  feared,  indeed,  that  it  would 


26  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

injure  him,  but  his  servant  Namontack,  who  had  been 
to  England  with  Newport,  assured  him  that  no  harm 
would  come  to  him,  and  so  he  allowed  the  clothing  to  be 
hung  upon  his  body,  although  he  absolutely  refused  to 
kneel  and  receive  the  crown  upon  his  head.  Finally 
the  patience  of  the  Englishmen  became  exhausted,  one 
leaned  upon  his  shoulder  so  as  to  cause  him  to  stoop  a 
little,  and  three  more  clung  to  him  and  pushed  him 
downward,  while  one  had  the  crown  in  his  hand.  Sud 
denly  it  was  slapped  on  his  head,  a  pistol  shot  rang  out, 
and,  in  token  of  the  coronation,  the  soldiers  discharged 
their  muskets  in  salute.  Immediately  Powhatan  leaped 
upright  with  an  expression  of  terror  and  fear  upon  his 
countenance,  for  he  believed  that  an  attack  was  to  be 
made  upon  him,  but,  seeing  that  all  was  well,  he  recov 
ered  his  usual  composure,  generously  gave  his  old  shoes 
and  deerskin  mantle  to  Newport  in  acknowledgment 
of  appreciation  for  these  presents,  and,  turning  to  him, 
told  him  that  he  absolutely  refused  to  lend  him  any  of 
his  men,  except  Namontack,  to  go  against  the  Monocans. 
He  was  most  courteous  and  civil,  and  presented  Newport 
with  seven  or  eight  bushels  of  corn  ears  in  recognition  of 
his  kindness  and  politeness. 

Little  was  now  heard  of  Powhatan,  but  it  became 
evident  that  he  was  not  on  friendly  terms  with  the 
English,  as  the  neighboring  tribes  refused  to  keep  up 
their  trade  with  those  at  Jamestown,  some  stating  that 
they  had  been  so  advised  by  the  great  Emperor. 

This  naturally  made  Smith  very  angry.  At  one 
time  he  contemplated  falling  upon  We-ro-woco-moco 
by  surprise  and  seizing  all  of  the  stores  of  corn  which  he 


POWHATAN:  GREAT   SACHEM       27 

would  find  there,  but,  feeling  that  discretion  was  the 
better  part  of  valor,  he  restrained  his  wild  intentions 
and  in  December,  1608,  accepted  an  invitation  of  Pow- 
hatan's  to  visit  him.  The  Emperor  had  asked  him  to 
assist  in  building  a  house  and  requested  him  to  bring  a 
grindstone,  fifty  swords,  a  few  muskets,  a  cock  and  a  hen, 
and  a  quantity  of  beads  and  of  copper.  Forty-six 
Colonists  accompanied  the  bold  Captain  on  this  expe 
dition,  and  at  the  first  stopping  place,  Werrasqueake, 
the  chief  Sachem  of  the  place,  endeavored  to  dissuade 
the  Englishmen  from  continuing  the  trip.  "Powhatan 
will  use  you  kindly,  but  he  has  sent  for  you  only  to  cut 
your  throat,"  said  he.  "  Trust  him  not  and  give  him  no 
opportunity  to  seize  your  arms."  In  spite  of  this  the 
unhesitating  Englishmen  kept  on,  and  when  at  length 
they  arrived  at  We-ro-woco-moco  and  asked  for  pro 
visions,  they  were  promptly  supplied  with  bread,  veni 
son  and  turkeys,  while  the  Emperor  stated,  with  some 
energy,  that  he  and  his  people  had  very  little  corn, 
though  if  the  English  would  present  him  with  forty 
swords  he  felt  that  about  forty  baskets  could  be  collected. 
Smith  found  that  Powhatan  would  take  nothing  but 
guns  and  swords  in  exchange  for  provisions  and  that  he 
valued  a  basket  of  corn  higher  than  a  basket  of  copper, 
and  thus  became  quite  angry  when  he  saw  how  anxious 
the  savage  was  to  secure  possession  of  the  arms  of  the 
whites.  "I  will  spare  you  what  corn  I  can,"  said  the 
Emperor,  "and  that  within  two  days,  but,  Captain 
Smith,  I  have  some  doubts  as  to  your  object  in  this 
visit.  1  am  informed  that  you  wish  to  conquer  more 
than  to  trade,  and,  at  all  events,  you  must  know  that 


28  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

my  people  must  be  afraid  to  come  near  you  with  their 
corn,  as  long  as  you  are  armed  with  such  a  retinue. 
Lay  aside  your  weapons,  then.  Here  they  are  needless. 
We  are  friends.  All  Powhatans." 

"You  mistake  our  intentions,"  said  Smith.  "We 
come  not  to  conquer,  but  to  gain  provisions." 

"I  am  old,  Captain  Smith,"  answered  the  great 
chief,  "and  I  know  well  the  difference  between  peace 
and  war.  I  wish  to  live  quietly  with  you,  and  I  wish 
the  same  for  my  successors.  Now  the  rumors  which 
reach  me  on  all  sides  make  me  uneasy.  What  do  you 
expect  to  gain  by  destroying  us  who  provide  you  with 
food?  And  what  can  you  get  by  war  if  we  escape  you 
and  hide  our  provisions  in  the  woods?  We  are  un 
armed,  too,  you  see.  Do  you  believe  me  such  a  fool  as 
not  to  prefer  eating  good  meat,  sleeping  quietly  at  home, 
laughing  and  making  merry  with  you,  having  copper 
and  hatchets  and  anything  else,  as  your  friend,  to 
flying  from  you  as  your  enemy,  lying  cold  in  the  woods, 
eating  acorns  and  roots  and  being  so  hunted  by  you 
meanwhile,  that  if  but  a  twig  break  my  men  will  cry  out, 
'There  comes  Captain  Smith!'  Let  us  be  friends  then. 
Do  not  invade  us  with  such  an  armed  force.  Lay  aside 
these  arms!" 

But  Smith  refused  to  accede  to  this  request,  for  he 
feared  that  he  was  about  to  be  attacked  by  the  followers 
of  Powhatan  who  were  clustered  about,  and  so  gave 
secret  orders  for  hauling  his  boat  ashore  through  the  ice 
and  landing  many  of  his  men  who  were  on  board.  In 
the  endeavor  to  detain  Powhatan,  he  started  a  vigorous 
conversation  with  the  old  Sachem.  Appreciating 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       29 

Smith's  ruse,  the  witty  warrior  left  two  or  three  of  his 
women  to  talk  with  him  while  he  left  the  house  in  which 
they  were  very  hurriedly,  with  all  of  his  attendants. 
Captain  Smith  now  found  himself  completely  surrounded 
by  Indians.  Fearing  an  attack,  he  drew  his  sword, 
and,  brandishing  it  about  his  head,  cut  his  way  through 
the  crowd  of  savages,  who,  as  soon  as  he  fired  his  pistol, 
fled  in  all  directions. 

In  spite  of  this  show  of  hostility  upon  the  part  of 
Smith,  the  Indians  again  flocked  around  him,  while 
Powhatan  sent  a  large  and  handsome  bracelet  by  the 
hand  of  one  of  his  chief  orators,  who  made  a  long  speech, 
full  of  complimentary  remarks  and  excuses  for  their 
conduct.  The  savages  also  furnished  baskets  for  carry 
ing  the  corn,  and  offered  to  guard  the  Englishmen's  fire 
arms,  an  offer  which  was  of  course  declined,  as  Smith 
feared  they  would  steal  these  necessary  possessions. 
As  the  fall  of  the  tide  made  it  impossible  for  them  to 
continue  their  journey  that  night,  the  English  knew 
that  they  must  remain  where  they  were.  It  was  true 
that  there  was  treachery  afoot,  for  Pocahontas  soon 
came  to  Smith's  quarters  in  the  woods  and  told  him  that 
her  father  Powhatan  was  collecting  all  of  his  men  to  make 
an  assault  upon  his  force,  unless  the  Indians  who  would 
bring  in  the  supper  should  themselves  be  able  to  kill  him. 

The  Captain  was  consequently  on  his  guard  an  hour 
afterwards,  when  ten,  strapping,  big  fellows  came  into 
camp  bearing  great  platters  of  venison  and  other  victuals. 
They  asked  the  English  to  put  out  the  matches  of  their 
muskets,  for  the  smoke  of  them  was  most  annoying. 
But  Smith  appreciated  their  ruse,  made  them  taste 


30  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

every  dish  that  had  been  brought  in,  so  that  if  there  was 
any  poison  inside  it  would  first  take  hold  of  those  who 
brought  it,  and,  telling  them  to  inform  Powhatan  that 
the  English  were  all  prepared  for  him  whenever  he 
wished  to  start  hostilities,  he  sent  them  back  to  the  chief 
of  the  most  powerful  tribe  in  Virginia.  There  was  no 
attack,  so  the  English  sailed  away  on  their  journey  of 
exploration,  leaving  behind  them  one  Englishman  to 
kill  game  for  Powhatan,  and  two  or  three  Germans  to 
assist  him  in  building  a  house. 

Today,  on  a  high  hill  near  the  spot  where  once  stood 
the  town. of  We-ro-woco-moco,  is  a  stone  chimney  called 
"Powhatan's  Chimney,"  and,  according  to  tradition, 
this  is  the  chimney  of  the  house  which  the  German 
artisans  erected  for  the  great  Virginia  Sachem. 

The  English  pushed  onward  in  search  of  corn,  for  they 
were  sorely  in  need  of  it  for  the  colony  at  Jamestown, 
and  at  length  came  to  the  lodges  of  Opechancanough, 
king  of  the  Pamunkies,  and  a  younger  brother  of  Pow 
hatan.  From  him  Captain  Smith  secured  a  certain 
amount  of  supplies,  only  after  a  severe  personal  scuffle. 
Thus,  after  an  absence  of  six  weeks,  the  Colonists 
reached  Jamestown  with  a  cargo  of  four  hundred  seventy- 
nine  bushels  of  corn  and  two  hundred  pounds  of  deer 
suet,  in  exchange  for  which  they  had  given  but  twenty- 
five  pounds  of  copper  and  fifty  pounds  of  iron  and 
beads. 

The  Powhatans  seemed  also  to  be  on  fairly  good 
terms  with  the  English  and  traded  with  them  most 
amicably  until  Smith  departed  for  England.  Then, 
realizing  that  their  most  intelligent  adversary  had  left, 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       31 

they  fell  upon  the  six  hundred  settlers  who  remained 
behind,  with  such  success,  that  at  the  end  of  six  months, 
only  sixty  men,  women,  and  children  were  alive  at 
Jamestown.  These  were  almost  reduced  to  starvation 
and  were  living  on  roots,  herbs,  acorns,  walnuts,  berries 
and  an  occasional  fish,  when  supplied  by  two  ships  which 
arrived  at  Jamestown  early  in  1613  with  some  food 
stuffs  for  the  colony.  But  what  they  brought  was  in 
sufficient  for  the  needs  of  the  starving  people,  and  so 
Captain  Argall,  who  commanded,  sailed  up  the  Potomac 
to  trade  with  the  natives  for  com.  Po  what  an  was  now 
extremely  hostile  to  the  colony;  his  men  had  captured 
and  stolen  many  English  arms  and  had  secured  a  num 
ber  of  white  prisoners. 

Meanwhile  Pocahontas  had  left  her  father's  home 
and  had  gone  to  reside  temporarily  with  the  Potomacs — 
a  friendly  tribe  which  had  its  hunting  ground,  upon  the 
Potomac  River.  Contemporary  historians  differ  as  to 
the  reason  for  this;  one  account  being  that  she  had 
gone  there  merely  upon  a  visit  among  friends;  another 
that  she  had  been  sent  by  Powhatan  to  trade  with  them ; 
and  still  another  that  her  father  did  not  like  her  friend 
ship  for  the  whites  and  so  dispatched  her  there  to  get 
her  away  from  any  possible  intimacy  with  them.  At 
any  rate  when  Captain  Argall  had  been  informed  by 
friendly  Indians  that  Pocahontas  was  near  by,  a  plan 
for  making  peace  with  Powhatan  immediately  suggested 
itself  to  his  unscrupulous  mind.  He,  therefore,  sent  for 
one  of  the  Indian  chiefs  and  told  him  that  if  he  did  not 
give  Pocahontas  into  his  hands  they  would  no  longer 
be  "brothers  and  friends."  And  when  the  Potomacs, 


32  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

fearing  war  with  Powhatan,  seemed  unwilling  to  do  this, 
Captain  Argall  assured  them  that  he  would  take  their 
part  if  any  war  should  occur. 

But  how  could  he  secure  the  Indian  maiden,  for  she 
appeared  to  manifest  no  desire  to  go  on  board  the 
vessel?  This  was  indeed  a  problem,  and,  after  think 
ing  the  matter  over  for  some  time,  he  decided  that  he 
would  make  use  of  a  little  strategy  in  order  to  gain  his 
end.  So  he  offered  an  old  Indian,  called  Japazaws,  the 
irresistible  bribe  of  a  copper  kettle,  if  he  would  bring 
Pocahontas  to  the  ship.  This  was  too  much  for  the  old 
Indian  to  withstand.  With  the  aid  of  his  wife,  who 
begged  her  husband  to  allow  her  to  go  aboard,  he  man 
aged  to  get  Pocahontas  to  visit  the  anchored  vessel,  an 
accomplishment  which  was  effected  by  appealing  to  the 
tender  heart  of  the  Indian  girl,  who  was  so  moved  to 
pity  when  she  saw  Japazaws  refuse  to  take  his  wife 
aboard  unless  she  had  some  female  with  her,  that  she 
offered  to  accompany  her  to  the  English  ship.  The 
old  Indian  and  his  wife  were  highly  pleased  at  the  suc 
cess  of  their  stratagem;  so  much  so,  that  all  through 
dinner  they  kept  treading  on  the  toes  of  Captain  Argall 
and  laughing  aloud.  But  after  supper  the  Captain  sent 
Pocahontas  to  the  gun  room  while  he  pretended  to  have 
a  private  conversation  with  Japazaws.  He  soon  re 
called  the  Indian  Princess  and  told  her  that  she  must 
remain  with  him  and  that  she  could  not  again  see  her 
father,  Powhatan,  until  she  had  effected  a  peace  between 
his  noble  sire  and  the  English.  Japazaws  and  his  wife 
immediately  set  up  a  great  howling  and  crying,  but 
Pocahontas  was  exceedingly  pensive  and  downcast. 


PO  WHAT  AN:   GREAT    SACHEM      33 

She  even  shed  a  few  tears  as  the  old  people  who  had  be 
trayed  her  were  rowed  to  shore,  happy,  smiling,  and 
holding  tightly  their  copper  kettle  and  other  trinkets 
which  the  witty  Captain  had  given  them. 

Soon  afterwards  the  English  sent  an  Indian  messenger 
to  Powhatan  and  informed  him  that  his  dear  daughter 
Pocahontas  was  a  prisoner,  and  that,  if  he  would  send 
home  the  Englishmen  whom  he  had  detained  in  slavery 
with  such  arms  and  tools  as  his  subjects  had  stolen,  and 
also  a  great  quantity  of  corn,  then  his  daughter  would 
be  restored  to  him;  otherwise  she  would  be  kept  and 
treated  with  kindness  and  consideration.  Powhatan 
loved  his  daughter  dearly,  but  he  apparently  had  still 
greater  love  for  the  English  weapons  that  he  possessed, 
for,  although  he  replied  that  he  would  perform  the 
conditions  laid  down  by  the  English  so  that  he  might 
regain  his  daughter,  he  did  not  do  so,  and  it  was  a  very 
long  time  before  anything  was  heard  of  him. 

After  three  months  of  silence  seven  Englishmen  were 
sent  to  the  Governor  of  Jamestown,  three  muskets,  a 
broad-axe,  a  whip-saw,  and  a  canoe  full  of  corn,  and, 
accompanying  them  was  a  message  to  the  effect  that  if 
Pocahontas  were  returned,  a  large  quantity  of  corn 
would  be  dispatched  to  the  Colonists.  But  this  did  not 
entirely  meet  with  the  approval  of  Argall. 

"Your  daughter  shall  be  well  used,  but  we  cannot 
believe  that  the  rest  of  our  arms  are  either  lost  or  stolen 
from  you,  and,  therefore,  till  you  send  them  we  will  keep 
Pocahontas  with  us/7  said  he  to  the  emissaries. 

To  this  answer  the  sagacious  Powhatan  did  not  reply, 
and  it  was  a  long  time  before  anything  was  again  heard 


34  FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

of  him.  Finally,  as  he  remained  silent  for  such  a  length 
of  time,  Sir  Thomas  Dale,  with  one  hundred  and  fifty 
men,  embarked  in  the  Colonists'  vessels  for  a  visit  to 
the  Emperor.  Pocahontas  was  taken  along,  and  when 
the  party  sailed  up  the  York  River,  Powhatan  was  not 
to  be  found,  while  those  followers  of  his  who  did  appear 
received  them  with  scornful  threats,  taunts,  and  open 
hostility.  The  English  replied  with  musket  shots,  and, 
after  a  sharp  fight,  some  of  the  Indian  houses  were  burned 
to  the  ground. 

This  angered  Powhatan  greatly,  and  when  they  asked 
why  it  had  been  done,  the  English  answered  by  asking 
why  they  had  shot  at  them  with  their  arrows.  To  this 
the  savage  replied  that  they  had  meant  no  harm,  that 
they  were  the  white  man's  friends,  and  that  the  blame 
lay  upon  some  straggling  savage.  A  peace  was,  therefore, 
declared  and  messengers  were  sent  to  Powhatan  in  the 
persons  of  Mrs.  John  Rolfe  and  Mrs.  Sparks,  who  were 
kindly  received  and  hospitably  entertained,  but  were  not 
admitted  to  the  great  Sachem's  presence.  Instead,  his 
brother  Opechancanough  saw  them  and  promised  to  do 
the  best  that  he  could  to  persuade  Powhatan  to  negotiate 
a  treaty,  and  that  "all  might  be  well."  This  was  slight 
satisfaction  indeed,  but,  as  it  was  now  April  and  time 
to  sow  corn,  the  English  were  obliged  to  return  to  James 
town. 

Pocahontas  went  with  them  with  great  unwillingness 
and  not  without  tears.  For  a  year  she  was  a  prisoner 
at  Jamestown,  and,  as  her  feelings  had  always  been 
warm  for  the  white  strangers,  they  treated  her  with 
the  greatest  friendliness  and  kindness.  She  was  now 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       35 

about  eighteen  years  of  age,  with  an  oval,  pleasant, 
interesting  face,  large  black  eyes  and  straight,  black 
hair.  Mr.  John  Rolfe — a  young  Colonist  of  honesty 
and  purpose — took  a  great  interest  in  her,  and,  in  the 
endeavor  to  convert  her  to  Christianity,  fell  in  love  with 
this  sweet  and  simple  Indian  Princess.  Pocahontas 
adopted  Christianity,  and,  when  marriage  was  suggested 
by  good  John  Rolfe,  readily  accepted  his  proposal. 
Powhatan,  himself,  seemed  to  be  well  pleased  with  the 
match  when  informed  of  it,  and  within  ten  days  of  this 
announcement  an  old  Uncle  of  Pocahontas  and  two  of 
her  brothers  arrived  at  Jamestown  as  deputies  from 
Powhatan  to  witness  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  and 
to  show  the  amiability  of  the  father.  Pocahontas  was 
first  baptized,  was  christened  Rebbeca,  and,  as  she  was 
a  King's  daughter,  was  known  sometimes  thereafter  as 
the  Lady  Rebbeca,  sometimes  as  the  Lady  Pocahontas. 
The  ceremony  took  place  about  April  the  first,  1618. 
In  the  little  Colonial  Church  at  Jamestown,  with  its 
wide-open  windows,  the  cedar  pews,  and  its  plainly 
hewed  pulpit,  with  a  canoe-like  front,  the  copper-hued 
Princess  was  united  in  marriage  to  John  Rolfe,  while 
Colonists  and  three  Indians  looked  on  in  solemn  but 
cheerful  silence,  amid  the  scent  of  wild  flowers,  the 
trilling  of  birds,  and  the  soft  wind-gusts  from  the  river. 
From  now  on  friendly  intercourse  and  trade  was  re 
established  with  Powhatan  and  his  people.  Thus  the 
marriage  was  of  great  import  to  the  Colonists,  for  it 
relieved  them  from  worry  and  alarm.  And  in  another 
way,  also,  the  marriage  of  this  sweet  Indian  maiden 
benefitted  the  colony,  for  the  nearest  neighbors  of  the 


36  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

English — the  Chickahominys — were  powerful,  free  from 
the  yoke  of  Powhatan,  and  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
feud  between  the  Colonists  and  the  Great  Sachem  to 
keep  independent  of  both.  Now  they  began  to  have 
doubts  of  their  own  liberty,  when  the  English  were  at 
peace  with  Powhatan,  so  they  sent  a  deputation  to  Sir 
Thomas  Dale,  and  concluded  a  treaty  with  him,  to  the 
effect  that  they  would  furnish  three  hundred  men  in  case 
of  a  Spanish  attack  upon  the  Colony,  bring  a  tribute  of 
corn  at  harvest  time  (for  which  they  were  to  receive 
payments  in  hatchets)  and  that  each  of  the  eight  of 
their  chief  men,  who  were  to  see  to  the  performance  of 
this  treaty,  should  have  a  red  coat  and  a  copper  chain 
with  the  picture  of  King  James  upon  it,  and  be  called 
the  King's  noblemen. 

The  marriage  of  the  good  Pocahontas  to  John  Rolfe 
seems  to  have  put  an  end  to  aggressive  interference  with 
the  Colonists  on  the  part  of  Powhatan.  From  that 
moment  until  his  death,  a  few  years  later,  Indian  war 
fare  was  at  an  end,  and  serious  difficulty  between  the 
white  settlers  and  the  savages  did  not  again  break  out 
until  the  reign  of  Opechancanough,  King  of  Pamunkies, 
and  Powhatan's  successor.  The  Indian  tribes  are 
democracies  and  he  who  rules  must  acquire  and  sus 
tain  his  influence  by  his  absolute  ability  and  energy. 
The  head  Sachem  had  to  be  brave,  hardy,  patient,  in 
defatigable,  and  had  to  show  talents  for  controlling  the 
fortunes  and  commanding  the  respect  of  the  community 
which  he  governed.  Powhatan  had  every  requisite  for 
success,  and  Opechancanough,  who  succeeded  him, 
possessed  the  same  characteristics.  Numerous  sons  of 


POWHATAN:  GREAT   SACHEM       37 

the  great  chief  could  have  stepped  into  his  shoes,  had 
they  had  sufficient  ability  to  do  so. 

Powhatan  exacted  implicit  obedience  from  his  sub 
jects,  and,  as  an  old  writer  says,  "His  will  was  law  and 
had  to  be  obeyed."  His  followers  esteemed  him  not 
only  as  a  king,  but  as  half  a  God.  What  he  commanded 
they  dare  not  disobey  in  the  least.  At  his  feet  they 
presented  whatever  he  gave  orders  for,  and,  at  the 
least  frown  of  his  brow  their  great  spirits  trembled  for 
fear.  He  possessed  great  tact  and  diplomacy,  and  his 
long  and  artful  conversations  with  Captain  Smith  in 
order  to  gain  time;  the  promptness  with  which  he  refused 
the  proposal  to  march  with  the  English  against  the 
Monocans;  and  his  refusal  to  listen  to  the  proposal  of 
two  German  deserters  who  fled  to  him  from  Jamestown 
with  the  offer  of  bringing  Captain  Smith  to  him 
securely  bound;  shows  him  to  have  been  a  man  of  no 
small  honesty.  To  the  Germans  he  replied  that,  "Men 
who  betrayed  their  captain  would  betray  their  em 
peror/'  and  forthwith  ordered  the  scoundrels  to  be 
dispatched  with  war  clubs. 

It  is  on  record  that  no  acts  of  thieving  or  aggression 
against  the  white  settlers  at  Jamestown  were  done  by 
the  Powhatans,  until  Smith,  driven  to  use  aggression 
upon  his  own  part  because  starvation  stared  him  in 
the  face,  intimidated  the  Indians  by  a  show  of  armed 
force,  and  made  them  give  him  boatloads  of  corn  by 
threatening  an  attack  unless  they  "delivered  the  much- 
needed  provisions.  From  then  on  the  Indians  became 
more  suspicious  of  the  whites,  more  aggressive,  and 
more  troublesome.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  more 


38  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

hot-headed  spirits  would  have  openly  attacked  the 
settlers  on  more  than  one  occasion,  had  not  Powhatan's 
restraining  voice  held  them  in  check.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  settlement  at  Jamestown  the  savages  could  have 
put  an  end  to  every  white  man  in  Virginia  had  they  so 
wished  and  had  Powhatan  so  ordered.  But  these 
Indians  met  the  whites  peaceably,  gave  them,  at  first, 
plenty  of  provisions,  and  not  until  they  appreciated  that 
the  men  with  "thundering-sticks"  (muskets)  had  come 
to  remain  among  them  and  to  gradually  despoil  them  of 
their  land,  did  they  show  that  resentment,  vindictive- 
ness,  or  cruelty,  which  afterwards  characterized  their 
actions  toward  the  settlers.  And,  as  has  always  oc 
curred,  the  red  men  gave  way  before  the  all-compelling 
advance  of  the  whites. 

When  Sir  Thomas  Dale,  who  had  been  governor  of 
Virginia  for  five  years,  left  for  England,  he  took  with 
him  Pocahontas,  John  Rolfe — her  husband — and  Tomo- 
como,  one  of  Powhatan's  chief  men,  who  had  been  told 
by  the  Emperor  to  count  the  people  of  England  and  give 
him  an  exact  idea  of  their  strength.  The  Great  Indian 
Emperor  had  a  strong  suspicion,  also,  that  England  had 
no  corn  or  lumber,  because  great  shiploads  of  both 
these  commodities  continually  left  the  James  River  for 
the  Mother  Country,  and  so  Tomocomo  was  requested 
to  observe  whether  or  no  the  white  men  had  trees  or 
grain  fields.  The  vessel  reached  Plymouth  on  June  12th, 
1616,  and,  on  leaving  the  vessel,  Tomocomo  prepared  a 
long  stick  upon  which  he  was  to  cut  a  notch  whenever 
he  saw  a  man.  He  kept  this  up  for  a  day  and  then  said, 
''Ugh!  Ugh!  Too  many!  Stick  not  long  enough." 


POWHATAN:  GREAT  SACHEM       39 

He  also  saw  that  England  was  not  lacking  in  either 
lumber  or  grain  fields. 

The  popular  interest  in  Pocahontas  was  very  great. 
Persons  followed  her  about  for  hours,  and  crowds  at 
tended  her  every  appearance.  She  was  presented  at 
Court  to  King  James  1st,  and  his  Queen,  and  made  a 
most  satisfactory  impression;  for  all  were  charmed  by 
her  kindness,  simplicity,  and  sweetness  of  manner. 
But  the  noise,  confusion  and  smoke  of  London  tired  the 
timid  Indian  girl,  so  she  was  moved  to  Brentford,  where 
Captain  John  Smith — who  had  returned  to  England 
because  of  a  wound — went  to  see  her  very  often  and 
talked  to  her  of  Virginia,  of  Powhatan,  and  of  the  great 
sweeping  waters  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  It  could  be 
easily  seen  that  the  kind-hearted  Princess  was  home 
sick.  After  the  birth  of  a  son,  whom  they  christened 
Thomas  Rolfe,  she  longed  to  return  to  her  native  land 
and  to  once  more  see  her  people,  her  father,  and  the 
waving  cornfields  of  the  Powhatans,  the  Potomacs 
and  the  Pamunkies.  So  preparations  were  made  for 
her  journey.  She  accompanied  her  husband  to  Graves- 
end  where  a  vessel  was  being  fitted  for  Virginia,  but, 
catching  a  severe  cold,  she  died  on  the  very  eve  of  her 
departure,  and  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-two.  No  one 
showed  more  sorrow  at  her  unexpected  demise  than  did 
the  gallant  Captain  Smith  whom  she  had  saved,  whose 
followers  she  had  often  warned  of  impending  danger, 
and  whose  kind  intervention  in  behalf  of  the  starving 
Colonists  had,  on  many  occasions,  moved  the  fierce 
distrust  of  Powhatan  to  compassion  and  to  concessions 
of  the  life-sustaining  and  much  needed  corn. 


40  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

One  year  later,  in  1618,  her  father — the  Great  Pow- 
hatan — also  went  to  "the  happy  hunting  grounds/' 
as  the  Indian  says  of  those  who  have  departed  to  another 
world.  Peace  reigned  in  Virginia ;  his  own  tribe  was  on 
friendly  terms  with  both  the  neighboring  Indians  and 
with  the  white  settlers,  who  were  gradually  taking  pos 
session  of  plantations  upon  the  James;  his  cornfields 
were  being  well  tilled;  and  his  people  were  contented 
and  happy.  As  a  warrior  he  undoubtedly  had  been  of 
superior  mettle  in  his  youth,  for  without  this  he  could 
never  have  arisen  to  the  position  which  he  held.  As  a 
counsellor,  director,  and  advisor  of  the  destinies  of  his 
people,  the  fact  that  he  kept  them  contented,  rich,  and 
prosperous,  is  sufficient  tribute  to  his  ability  as  a  great 
Sachem.  His  dealings  with  the  English  were  not  treach 
erous,  save  where  he  expected  aggression  on  the  part 
of  the  whites;  and  honesty,  integrity  and  intellect 
uality  governed  his  words  and  public  utterances.  For 
an  Indian  he  was  notable,  and,  had  he  been  brought 
up  in  the  same  civilization  and  refinement  which  sur 
rounded  the  white  invaders  of  his  territory,  there 
is  no  doubt  that  he  would  have  been  as  much  respected 
by  the  first  settlers  at  Jamestown  as  he  was  by  his 
own  people,  who  gave  full  credit  to  the  talents  of  any 
man  of  superior  ability.  His  self-command  and  chival 
rous  courtesy  were  quite  worthy  of  the  best  of  English 
men,  and  thus  his  title  to  greatness  is  secure. 


OPECHANCANOUGH:    THE  SCOURGE 
OF  VIRGINIA 

SIR  GEORGE  YEARDLEY,  Governor  of  the  Vir 
ginia  Colony  in  1616,  stood  before  the  door  of  his 
cabin  at  Jamestown,  busily  engaged  in  conversa 
tion  with  a  stout  yeoman,  who  was  clad  in  rough  clothes, 
with  a  breastplate  upon  his  chest,  and  a  round  iron 
helmet  upon  his  head. 

"We  are  in  need  of  corn,  Captain  Brown/ '  said  he, 
"and  we  must,  as  heretofore,  collect  it  from  the  Indians/' 

"But  they  have  refused  to  give  it  to  us,"  answered 
his  military  companion.  "They  are  growing  insolent 
and  disrespectful." 

"Have  you  tried  Opechancanough?" 

"Yea,  and  he  had  put  me  off  with  smiles  and  grim 
aces." 

"Have  you  tried  the  Chickahominies?" 

"Yea,  and  they  have  refused,  point  blank,  to  aid  us." 

"Then  we  must  collect  it  by  force  or  we  shall  starve. 
Therefore  gather  one  hundred  soldiers.  We  will  march 
upon  them  tomorrow,  and  if  they  will  stand,  we  will  give 
them  a  right  smart  drubbing.  At  any  rate,  corn  we 
must  have  and  corn  we  shall  get." 

Next  morning  a  force  of  soldiers  marched  out  from 
the  stockade  and  soon  filled  the  many  canoes,  near  by, 
by  means  of  which  they  were  carried  up  the  river, 

41 


42  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

They  were  armed  with  long  swords,  muskets,  and  knives. 
Their  bullet  pouches  were  well  filled,  their  breast 
plates  were  newly  polished,  and  the  sun  gleamed  from 
their  shining  helmets  and  steel  weapons.  They  laughed 
and  chatted  gayly,  for  they  knew  that  the  affair  could 
have  but  one  outcome,  and  that  would  be  in  their  favor. 

After  a  merry  journey,  the  homes  of  the  Chickahom- 
inies  were  seen  in  the  distance,  and,  forming  for  the 
assault,  the  soldiers  were  soon  beset  by  hundreds  of 
painted  warriors,  whose  yelping  and  screeching  sounded 
wildly  through  the  leafy  thickets.  "You  dare  not 
come  on,"  cried  one  of  the  braves  who  had  learned  to 
speak  English  upon  his  visits  to  Jamestown,  and  as  he 
spoke  he  fired  an  arrow  at  the  oncoming  whites,  which 
struck  one  of  the  men  full  in  the  breastplate.  "On, 
on/'  shouted  Sir  George  Yeardley.  "Give  these  red 
devils  a  lesson  which  they  will  not  soon  forget.  Move 
cautiously,  my  men,  and  do  not  charge  among  these 
wild  fellows  until  I  give  the  signal."  So,  carefully  and 
steadily,  the  troops  moved  forward  in  regular  alignment, 
firing  at  intervals,  and  occasionally  striking  one  of  the 
screeching,  jumping  Indians  with  a  bullet.  They  soon 
drove  them  beyond  the  village,  seized  enough  corn  to 
satisfy  their  needs,  and  turning  toward  home,  beat  a 
safe  and  slow  retreat  through  the  forest,  being  repeatedly 
fired  upon  by  the  savages. 

As  they  neared  Jamestown,  Opechancanough — the 
younger  brother  of  Powhatan — met  them  in  the  forest. 
He  had  succeeded  to  the  position  of  Chief  Sachem  which 
his  relative  had  held  before  him,  and  was  apparently 
upon  as  friendly  terms  with  the  whites  as  his  honored 


OPECHANCANOUGH  43 

brother  had  been.  With  much  show  of  warm  friendship, 
he  approached  the  leader  of  this  successful  foraging 
party,  and,  bending  to  the  ground,  said: 

"You  now  have  been  fighting  with  the  Chickahom- 
inies.  I  see  that  you  have  gathered  much  corn.  You 
will  need  to  make  peace  with  them,  now,  or  there  will  be 
much  fighting.  Ugh!  Ugh!  Let  me  make  peace  with 
these  people  for  you.  They  are  a  great  nation.  They 
can  do  you  much  harm.  Let  me  see  that  the  peace  pipe 
is  smoked  between  you." 

"Your  suggestion  is  a  good  one,"  answered  Yeardley. 
"I  shall  think  it  over,"  and  motioning  for  his  men  to 
proceed,  they  were  soon  on  their  way  to  Jamestown. 

Not  many  days  after  this,  Opechancanough — with 
Yeardley's  consent — went  to  the  Chickahominies  to  se 
cure  a  peace.  He  pretended  that  he  had  used  great 
pains  and  solicitation  to  secure  this,  and  so  impressed 
this  fact  upon  these  Indians,  that  they  proclaimed  him 
king  of  their  nation,  and  flocked  from  all  sides  with 
beads  and  copper  presents  to  give  to  the  new  Sachem. 
From  this  time  on  the  brother  of  Powhatan  was  content 
to  be  called  the  King  of  Chickahominy,  and  thus — of 
their  own  free  will — a  brave  and  resolute  people  came 
to  be  his  subjects.  For  many  years  they  had  made  a 
successful  resistance  to  all  attacks  of  other  Indian 
tribes,  and  had  frequently  given  the  English  a  stout 
fight. 

Opechancanough  saw  that  the  whites  were  increasing 
in  Virginia  in  alarming  proportions,  and  in  his  heart 
began  to  smoulder  a  longing  to  drive  them  out  of  the 
country  of  his  forefathers.  He  was  polite  and  civil  to 


44  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  settlers  whenever  he  saw  them,  and  no  one  could  tell 
by  talking  to  him  that  he  meditated  any  attack  upon 
the  Colonists,  but  he  was  brooding  over  the  situation 
at  all  times,  and  was  determined  that,  when  the  time 
was  ripe,  he  would  take  upon  himself  the  duty  of  ex 
pelling  the  English  from  Virginian  soil.  No  better 
preparation  for  war  could  have  been  made  on  his  part 
than  he  effected  when  he  secured  the  submission  of  the 
Chickahominies  to  his  rule.  It  has  even  been  thought 
that  he,  himself,  stirred  them  up  to  open  rebellion  when 
the  English  had  demanded  corn  from  them,  so  that  his 
own  influence  over  them  would  be  greater.  For  they 
knew  of  his  hostile  feelings  towards  the  whites,  and 
marvelled,  when  they  appreciated  that  he  could  still  be 
on  such  friendly  terms  with  them  that  he  was  admitted 
to  their  councils. 

In  1618  these  Indians  murdered  several  settlers,  and 
although  Opechancanough  was  asked  to  give  satisfac 
tion,  he  did  not  do  so.  He  was  requested  to  send  in  the 
heads  of  the  offenders  as  a  proof  that  they  had  met  the 
fate  which  was  due  them,  but  although  he  promised  to 
acquiesce  to  this  demand,  the  English  waited  for  months, 
and  no  word  came  from  him.  Thus  a  few  of  the  more 
cautious  of  the  Colonists  began  to  fear  that  trouble  was 
brewing  with  the  politic,  shrewd,  and  diplomatic  King 
of  the  Chickahominies. 

These  fears  had  no  evidence  of  being  well  grounded, 
from  the  actions  of  Opechancanough,  for  the  artful 
Chieftain  gave  the  English  no  open  cause  of  offense,  or 
any  evidence  of  hostility.  It  is  true  that  the  white 
men  suspected  treachery,  for  one  of  the  Jamestown 


OPECHANCANOUGH  45 

Colonists  writes,  in  1620,  "Now  Opechancanough  will 
not  come  to  treat  with  us  which  causes  us  to  greatly 
suspect  his  former  promises  that  he  is  friendly  to  us  and 
to  our  interests."  But  this  slight  uneasiness  was  soon 
forgotten,  for  when  Sir  Francis  Wyatt  succeeded  Gov 
ernor  Yeardley  a  few  years  later  messengers  were  sent 
to  the  Chief  of  the  Chickahominies,  and  he  received  them 
with  kindness,  expressed  the  hope  that  the  new  Presi 
dent  would  have  a  pleasant  time  in  Virginia,  and  re 
newed  his  former  league  with  the  colony,  with  apparent 
cheerfulness. 

"  I  am  much  pleased  to  hear  that  the  English  are  in 
habiting  this  country,"  said  he  to  one  of  the  messengers, 
"and  I  think  it  would  be  well  if  some  of  your  white 
families  would  settle  among  my  people,  and  some  of  my 
Indians  should  settle  at  Jamestown.  I  confess  that 
my  own  religion  is  not  as  perfect  as  that  of  you  English, 
and  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  baptized  into  the  Christain 
faith.  God  loves  you  whites  better  than  he  does  the 
red  men,  and  he  has  given  you  knowledge  of  guns  which 
spit'  fire,  which  we  have  never  had.  In  proof  of  my  love 
for  my  white  brothers  I  shall  give  you  guides  to  show 
you  to  rich  mines  far  up  the  river,  where  you  can  get 
precious  metals  to  send  to  your  Mother  Country  in 
exchange  for  sheep,  oxen,  and  provisions." 

The  English  were  naturally  delighted  with  such  talk, 
and,  without  the  least  suspicion  that  this  wily  Sachem 
was  plotting  murder  in  his  heart,  sent  some  of  their 
best  men  to  him  to  be  guided  to  the  mines.  While  they 
were  away  upon  this  expedition,  Opechancanough 
dispatched  a  few  of  his  followers  to  the  eastern  shore  of 


46  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  Chesapeake  Bay  to  secure  a  quantity  of  poisonous 
herbs  which  grew  there  and  which  he  wished  to  use  in 
getting  rid  of  the  English.  "We  would  know  your  feel 
ings  towards  these  whites/ 'said his  ambassadors  to  the 
red  inhabitants  of  this  country.  "Are  you  friendly  to 
these  English  invaders,  or  would  you  care  to  see  them 
exterminated?" 

"We  are  friendly.  We  need  their  trade.  They  do 
not  harm  us,  nor  do  we  intend  to  harm  them/'  answered 
the  spokesman  of  the  Indians  of  the  eastern  shore. 

"But  they  will  soon  take  all  the  land  which  you  have 
inherited  from  your  forefathers,  and  will  drive  you  into 
the  sea.  Come,  join  with  us  in  exterminating  these 
white  invaders." 

"No,  no.  We  will  remain  at  peace,"  said  the  men  of 
the  eastern  shore,  and  so  there  was  no  hope  of  their  aid 
in  the  insurrection  which  Opechancanough  was  planning. 
The  storm  was  slowly  gathering,  and  it  was  to  soon  burst 
upon  the  unsuspecting  settlers  like  the  tempestuous  cur 
rent  of  Niagara. 

The  white  settlers  had  taken  up  plantations  over  a 
vast  area  of  land,  and  some  of  them  had  farms  at  a  con 
siderable  distance  from  the  river,  from  each  other,  and 
from  the  stockade  at  Jamestown.  Here,  in  fancied 
peace  and  seclusion,  they  tilled  the  soil,  grew  corn,  wheat, 
and  tobacco,  and  began  to  prosper  in  the  wilderness. 
Their  women  and  children  were  with  them,  the  rough- 
hewn  barns  were  full  of  cows,  horses,  and  sheep,  while — 
piled  near  their  log  houses — the  ploughs  and  other  im 
ported  implements  of  agriculture  showed  that  the 
civilization  of  the  whites  was  soon  to  bend  the  wilder- 


OPECHANCANOUGH  47 

ness  to  its  will,  and  make  the  virgin  soil  produce. 
There  was  no  suspicion  of  an  Indian  attack.  The  red 
men  loitered  lazily  about  the  cabins  of  the  settlers, 
played  with  the  dogs,  slept  in  the  sun,  and  bartered  a 
few  skins,  which  they  had  trapped,  for  grain  and  pro 
visions.  Apparently  there  was  no  thought  or  idea  of 
violence.  Opechancanough  was  friendly;  his  warriors 
were  busy  with  fishing  and  hunting;  and  peace  breathed 
its  security  over  the  soil  of  Virginia. 

But  the  tempest  of  hatred  and  revenge,  which  had  been 
gathering  since  the  death  of  Powhatan,  was  to  now 
break  upon  the  devoted  colony.  Hiding  his  true  in 
tentions  behind  an  aspect  of  friendliness  and  kindness, 
Opechancanough  had  made  every  preparation  to  ex 
terminate  the  Colonists  from  England.  He  had  silently 
passed  the  word  to  his  warriors  jO  make  an  attack  upon 
the  settlements  upon  the  twenty-second  day  of  March, 
1622,  and  so  carefully  was  the  secret  kept  that  not  a 
word  of  the  terrible  news  escaped  to  warn  the  defense 
less  whites.  The  various  tribes,  who  banded  themselves 
together  for  the  attack,  were  stationed  in  the  vicinity 
of  several  places  where  an  advance  against  the  settle 
ments  would  be  easy  and  swift.  They  were  directed 
by  Opechancanough  to  march  with  all  speed  to  these 
stations — the  day  before  the  massacre — and,  although 
the  braves  had  to  walk  for  great  distances  through  a 
dense  forest  (guided  only  by  the  stars  and  moon),  not  a 
single  straggler  deserted  the  ranks  of  the  Indians,  nor 
did  a  single  mistake  occur.  One  by  one — in  single  file — 
the  warriors  silently  passed  through  the  Virginian 
thickets,  and,  halting  at  short  distances  from  the  set- 


48  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

tlements,  waited  in  the  underbrush  for  the  signal  to 
advance. 

In  the  early  gray  of  this  March  morning,  a  redskin 
slipped  silently  through  the  wood  from  the  clearing  of  a 
planter.  He  arrived  at  length  to  where  his  allies  were 
crouching  quietly  in  the  shadows,  and,  raising  his  hand 
aloft,  he  said:  "Ugh!  Ugh!  The  time  is  good.  Strike 
now!"  Without  further  consultation,  the  long  line  of 
painted  warriors  slipped  out  from  the  forest  into  the  clear 
ing,  rushed  across  the  open  space  to  the  cabin  of  the 
settler  who  had  dared  to  penetrate  thus  far  into  the 
wilderness,  and  soon  a  wild  scream  and  savage  war- 
whoop  showed  what  had  been  the  fate  of  the  inhabitants. 
Flames  soon  burst  from  the  roof — the  log  hut  was 
ablaze — and,  with  loud  screeches  of  joy,  the  Indian 
devils  danced  about  the  crumbling  remains  of  the  once 
peaceful  home. 

The  savages  knew  exactly  where  every  Englishman 
was  to  be  found.  Some  entered  the  houses  of  their 
white  friends,  saying  that  they  wished  to  trade.  Others 
drew  the  owners  out  into  the  forest,  telling  them  that 
they  had  skins  there,  which  they  wished  to  barter  with 
them;  and  still  others  fell  upon  the  Colonists  as  they  were 
ploughing  or  working  in  trie  fields.  The  whites  were 
totally  unprepared  and  thoroughly  surprised.  Before 
they  could  think,  they  were  seized,  struck  down,  and 
murdered.  In  one  short  hour,  and  almost  at  the  same 
time,  three  hundred  men,  women,  and  children  were  thus 
brutally  dispatched,  before  they  had  an  opportunity  to 
seize  anything  to  defend  themselves  with.  Wild  screams 
of  terror  went  up  in  the  wilderness,  as  the  Indians 


OPECHANCANOUGH  49 

completed  their  butchery,  and  there  were  none  there 
who  could  aid  the  defenseless  Colonists  of  Virginia. 

But  the  Indians  did  not  have  an  easy  time  with  all  the 
whites  whom  they  attacked.  When  they  rushed  in  upon 
Nathaniel  Causie — an  old  soldier  of  Captain  Smith's — 
he  seized  an  axe,  and,  although  wounded  by  several 
arrows,  when  a  savage  tried  to  stick  a  knife  into  him,  he 
struck  him  such  a  blow  with  his  weapon  that  he  fairly 
cut  him  in  two.  This  terrified  the  other  Indians  so  that 
they  fled,  while  Causie  ran  to  the  settlements  farther 
inland  to  warn  the  whites  of  their  peril.  At  a  place  called 
Warrasqueake,  a  Mr.  Baldwin  stood  off  about  fifty  braves 
with  his  musket,  and  by  barricading  himself  in  his 
house  finally  drove  the  savages  away  single-handed. 
Not  far  away  from  his  home,  two  settlers  held  their 
house  against  sixty  Indians,  and  hit  so  many  of  the 
screeching  red  men  that  the  war  party  finally  withdrew, 
falling  upon  the  house  of  a  stout  old  historian,  called 
Ralph  Hamer,  who  kept  them  off  with  a  spade,  armed 
his  sons  with  pitchforks  and  axes,  and,  as  the  Indians 
had  no  guns,  kept  them  away  from  his  log  hut,  after  a 
battle  lasting  over  two  hours.  At  Martin's  Hundred 
a  family  of  four  persons  hid  in  the  cellar  of  their  house 
and  were  entirely  overlooked  by  the  yelping  warriors, 
although  seventy-three  of  the  English  settlers  were  slain 
near  by.  With  horrible  yells  of  delight,  the  Indians 
mutilated  the  dead  bodies  of  the  slain  and  tortured  the 
dying  settlers  with  the  cruelest  of  devices. 

At  Jamestown  a  fortunate  incident  occurred.  A 
settler,  living  just  opposite  the  town,  had  an  Indian 
servant  called  Chanco.  This  red  man's  brother  told 


50  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

him  of  the  proposed  attack  on  the  day  before  the  out 
break,  so,  running  to  his  master,  Chanco  cried  out, 
"  Quick,  quick,  you  must  run  away.  Opechancanough, 
he  come  tomorrow  with  his  men,  and  murder  you." 

"How  do  you  know  this,  Chanco?"  asked  the  startled 
Colonist. 

"My  brother,  he  tell  me  just  now.  Quick,  to  the  set 
tlements." 

Now,  believing  what  his  servant  told  him,  the  settler 
ran  to  the  shore,  leaped  into  a  boat,  and  rowing  rapidly 
across  the  James  River,  warned  the  inhabitants  of 
Jamestown  of  their  peril.  They  quickly  armed  them 
selves,  mounted  their  howitzers  on  the  stockade,  closed 
the  gates,  and  presented  such  a  formidable  appearance  to 
the  followers  of  Opechancanough  when  they  appeared 
before  the  walls  next  day,  that  they  quickly  withdrew 
into  the  forest. 

The  first  attack  was  over,  but  war  had  just  begun. 
The  settlers  deserted  their  cabins  and  gathered  in  the 
larger  towns  for  mutual  defense.  Their  smaller  towns — 
like  Henrico  and  Charles  City — were  abandoned,  their 
scattered  plantations  were  deserted,  their  iron  works  and 
glass  works  were  given  up,  their  fields  of  corn  and 
vineyards  were  destroyed,  and  the  men  armed  for  re 
venge  upon  Opechancanough,  the  cruel.  A  body  of 
soldiers  was  formed — called  the  Long  Knives — who 
carried  muskets  and  exceedingly  sharp  dirks  which  they 
would  plunge  into  an  Indian's  hide  with  as  much  pleas 
ure  as  they  stuck  them  into  the  dead  carcass  of  a  deer. 
All  but  six  plantations  were  left  to  their  fate  and  there 
had  been  eighty  prosperous  farms  on  the  James  River. 


OPECHANCANOUGH  51 

Three  overseers  and  owners  refused  to  leave  their 
property,  mounted  cannon  on  stockades  around  their 
houses,  armed  their  servants,  and  determined  to  give 
the  Indians  a  severe  drubbing  if  they  ever  dared  to  at 
tack  them.  The  forests  and  underbrush  near  all  the 
houses  of  the  whites  were  burned  for  several  miles,  so 
there  would  be  no  protection  to  the  skulking  savages, 
and  these — not  daring  to  make  an  attack  in  force- 
made  short  and  sudden  incursions  on  the  settlements, 
carrying  off  corn,  cattle,  and  sometimes  unfortunate 
people.  The  whites  gave  the  red  men  no  quarter  when 
they  caught  them.  The  Long  Knives  were  as  blood 
thirsty  as  were  the  savages  themselves. 

So  many  whites  had  been  captured  by  the  Indians 
that  the  Governor  at  Jamestown  finally  sent  some  en 
voys  to  treat  with  Opechancanough  for  their  exchange. 

"I  shall  not  do  aught  that  you  wish  of  me,"  replied 
the  haughty  Chief  to  the  requests  of  the  ambassadors. 
"Am  I  not  King  of  this  country?  Do  I  not  own  it  by 
direct  descent  from  my  parents?  Does  the  Indian  not 
hold  this  land  from  the  Great  Father?  And,  as  for  this 
picture  of  the  Great  Father  of  the  English  which  you 
bring  me,"  here  he  turned  to  a  portrait  of  James  the 
First  which  the  envoys  had  given  him,  "to  show  my 
feelings  for  him,  I  hereby  step  on  him."  So  saying, 
he  threw  the  portrait  upon  the  ground  and  put  his  foot 
so  heavily  upon  the  face  of  good  King  James  that  he 
broke  it  into  a  hundred  portions.  Thus,  seeing  that  they 
could  have  no  effect  upon  the  irate  monarch,  the  envoys 
withdrew  to  their  canoes  and  paddled  home  to  James 
town,  as  angry  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 


52  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

The  imagination  can  well  picture  what  the  feelings 
of  the  settlers  must  have  been  at  this  time.  Surrounded 
in  the  forest  by  a  skulking  foe  who  watched  their  move 
ments  with  vindictive  hatred,  they  feared  to  venture 
into  the  open  unless  in  numbers  and  well  armed. 
Forced  to  flee  from  their  plantations,  they  huddled  to 
gether  in  the  stockaded  towns  like  so  many  sheep,  un 
able  to  till  any  fields  save  those  in  the  vicinity  of  their 
own  fortifications,  and  continually  fired  at  (while  plough 
ing  or  working  upon  their  harvests)  by  the  lurking 
savages.  A  few  of  their  numbers  had  escaped  from 
the  hands  of  the  Indians  and  had  brought  news  of 
torture  which  made  the  blood  boil  and  which  the  pen 
cannot  picture.  The  smouldering  ruins  of  their  once 
peaceful  homes  dotted  the  surrounding  country.  Wives, 
sisters,  children,  had  fallen  before  the  ruthless  toma 
hawk,  and,  stirred  by  feelings  of  the  greatest  hatred, 
the  white  men  longed  for  an  opportunity  to  have  a  fair 
fight  with  the  crafty  redskins;  and  so  busily  made 
bullets  for  serving  in  an  advance  into  the  land  of  the 
enemy. 

In  the  autumn  and  winter  of  1622,  a  series  of  attacks 
upon  the  savages  was  made  by  the  irate  white  men.  More 
Indians  are  said  to  have  been  slain  at  this  time  than  had 
ever  fallen  before  the  hands  of  the  English  since  the 
settlement  of  Jamestown.  And  the  tactics  employed 
by  the  Colonists  do  not  show  them  to  have  been  the 
men  of  sweet  and  gentle  disposition  which  they  are 
often  said  to  have  been,  for,  in  order  to  get  even  with 
their  red  enemies,  they  availed  themselves  of  a  stratagem 
as  cruel  and  treacherous  as  any  which  the  Indians 


OPECHANCANOUGH  53 

utilized  against  the  whites.  A  peace  was  offered  to  the 
followers  of  Opechancanough,  which  they  accepted,  and 
the  understanding  was  had  between  red  men  and  whites 
that  the  savages  would  be  left  alone  while  they  planted 
and  harvested  their  corn  crop.  So,  believing  in  the 
word  of  the  palefaces,  the  Indians  tilled  the  soil,  planted 
their  corn,  and  were  about  to  harvest  it,  when  the  Eng 
lish  surrounded  them,  fell  upon  them  in  all  direc 
tions  at  a  given  hour  upon  an  appointed  day,  killed 
hundreds  of  the  defenseless  savages,  and  destroyed  a 
vast  quantity  of  provisions.  Among  these  cruelly 
murdered  were  several  of  the  most  famous  war  captains, 
and  for  some  time  Opechancanough,  himself,  was  said  to 
be  among  the  slain,  a  rumor  which  caused  great  rejoicing 
among  the  whites.  But — after  some  montrjs — it  was 
learned  that  this  crafty  chieftain  was  still  at  large  and  as 
active  as  ever  before. 

"I  shall  yet  have  the  head  of  this  arch  conspirator," 
cried  Governor  Wyatt,  when  news  was  brought  him  that 
Opechancanough  was  alive.  "Come,  men,  we  will 
march  against  this  murderous  varlet,  raze  his  village  to 
the  ground,  and  chase  him  into  the  foothills  of  the  Blue 
Ridge."  He  had  no  need  to  urge  on  the  Virginian  Long 
Knives;  they  were  only  too  anxious  for  an  opportunity 
to  attack  the  despoiler  of  the  peace  of  their  adopted 
country,  so,  in  the  spring  of  1625,  a  goodly  body  of  stout 
rangers  pushed  into  the  forest  in  the  direction  of  Pamun- 
key — the  stronghold  of  the  Chief  of  the  Chickahominies. 
Their  advance  was  cautious,  stealthy,  sure,  yet,  as  they 
came  to  the  vicinity  of  the  Indian  town,  wild  cries 
echoed  from  every  side,  they  were  shot  at  from  the 


54  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

brush,  and,  before  they  realized  it,  they  were  in  a  furious 
melee  with  the  followers  of  Opechancanough.  But  the 
Long  Knives  knew  how  to  fight  in  Indian  fashion,  and 
crouching  behind  logs  and  fallen  trees,  they  soon  began 
to  pick  off  the  screeching  braves,  who  darted  from  tree 
to  tree  in  the  endeavor  to  dodge  the  straight  shots  of 
the  palefaces.  The  fight  was  hot  and  furious.  The 
Long  Knives  pressed  on  to  Pamunkey,  and,  although  the 
red  men  made  a  stout  rally  before  the  village,  they  were 
beaten  back,  only  to  see  the  smoke  soon  curling  from 
their  burning  wigwams  and  storehouses.  Governor 
Wyatt,  in  person,  now  urged  on  his  men  to  a  renewed 
attack  on  the  braves,  and,  although  the  Indians  were 
beaten  off  through  the  forest,  the  whites  could  not  pur 
sue  them  as  far  as  Mattapony,  only  four  miles  distant, 
and  the  principal  depot  and  rallying  point  of  Opechan 
canough.  Satisfied  with  the  day's  work,  the  Eng 
lish  now  retreated  to  their  own  settlements,  leaving 
the  Indians  in  full  possession  of  their  most  valued 
town. 

The  war  had  now  lasted  for  three  years,  and  in  spite 
of  all  their  efforts,  the  English  had  not  driven  the  Indians 
from  their  rallying  places  and  settlements.  "  By  heaven, 
they  know  how  to  fight, "  said  stout  Governor  Wyatt, 
"and  this  Opechancanough  is  more  than  a  match  for  us. 
But  I  will  catch  them  again  with  the  same  stratagem 
which  I  used  before,  and  I  will  wipe  these  treacherous 
war  dogs  from  the  soil  of  this  country."  So  saying,  he 
sent  a  proclamation  to  the  Chickahominies  and  Pamun- 
kies,  requesting  them  to  come  to  a  certain  place  for  a 
conference,  where  he  intended  to  surround  and  capture 


OPECHANCANOUGH  55 

most  of  them.  But  the  plan  failed  of  success,  and  these 
Indians — under  the  direct  guidance  of  Opechancanough 
— were  more  troublesome  than  ever.  At  this  period  they 
refused  absolutely  to  have  anything  to  do  with  either 
Wyatt  or  his  representatives.  The  skirmishing  went 
on  for  four  years  between  the  angry  white  men  and  the 
bloodthirsty  red  warriors,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time, 
a  march  was  made  by  the  Indian  braves  towards  James 
town,  which  so  alarmed  the  Governor  that  he  collected 
every  available  man  to  stem  the  outbreak. 

The  two  armies  met  in  a  stout  skirmish  soon  after 
wards.  It  was  a  hot  fight,  and,  as  usual,  the  Indians 
were  worsted  in  the  affair.  They  withdrew  to  the 
forest,  beaten  but  not  overawed,  while  the  Colonists 
were  too  much  injured  to  follow  them.  A  peace  com 
mission  was  now  sent  to  Opechancanough,  but  he  re 
fused  to  listen  to  any  overtures  from  the  whites.  He 
scoffed  at  all  ideas  of  a  settlement  of  the  difficulties  which 
lay  between  himself  and  the  Colonists,  and  withdrew  in 
sullen  anger  into  the  forest.  "By  all  that  I  love,"  cried 
Governor  Wyatt,  "  I  will  force  this  fellow  to  treat  with 
me,"  and  sending  a  large  armed  force  towards  Pamunkey, 
some  time  later,  he  secured  a  temporary  truce  with  the 
fierce  Opechancanough.  But  so  little  dependence  was 
placed  on  it,  that,  while  the  commissioners  on  both  sides 
were  adjusting  the  preliminaries,  a  proclamation  was 
issued  by  the  Governor  which  forbade  the  Colonists  from 
either  parleying  or  trading  with  the  Indians.  The  truce 
was  understood  to  be  only  a  temporary  affair,  yet  for 
nine  years  no  further  hostilities  occurred  between  the 
settlers  from  England  and  the  red  men.  Meanwhile 


56  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

more  and  more  white  Colonists  came  to  Virginia.  The 
settlements  rapidly  increased  in  size,  while  the  Indians, 
through  disease  and  lack  of  medical  knowledge,  did  not 
increase  with  any  great  rapidity. 

Opechancanough  was  not  yet  a  friend  to  the  white 
man,  although  he  was  apparently  upon  friendly  and 
peaceable  terms  with  the  Colonists.  Nursing  his  anger 
and  resentment,  he  remained  at  his  home  in  the  forest, 
meditating  upon  the  best  means  for  expelling  the  Eng 
lish  from  the  country  and  secretly  forming  a  plan  lor 
another  massacre  of  the  plantation  owners.  Moody, 
vindictive,  sour,  the  old  Chieftain  would  sit  gloomily 
before  his  wigwam,  speculating  upon  the  future  and 
dreaming  of  the  cheerful  moment  when  he  would  be  able 
to  have  Virginia  for  his  own  people.  Thus  he  brooded, 
while  dissensions  grew  among  the  Colonists  and  an  in 
surrection  against  the  Governor  of  Virginia  took  place 
among  the  English.  The  time  had  again  come  for 
Opechancanough  to  strike.  The  moment  had  arrived 
which  he  had  waited  for  through  nine  long  years,  and, 
rousing  himself  from  the  torpor  which  had  held  him  for 
this  period,  he  determined  upon  a  great  and  decisive 
blow  which  would  rid  him  forever  of  the  accursed 
English. 

The  great  Chieftain  was  now  very  aged.  His  voice 
shook  as  he  gave  his  orders.  Yet,  when  he  had  sent  out 
word  for  a  gathering  of  his  warriors,  his  commands  were 
taken  to  the  very  remotest  tribes  of  his  confederacy 
with  speed  and  accuracy.  As  in  the  first  outbreak,  he 
again  determined  to  attack  the  scattered  settlements  at 
a  certain  time,  to  station  large  forces  near  the  points 


OPECHANCANOUGH  57 

to  be  assaulted,  and  to  give  the  more  distant  posts  to  the 
leading  Chiefs  of  the  several  nations  in  his  confederacy 
of  Indian  tribes.  He,  himself,  was  to  lead  the  advance 
against  the  settlements  nearest  to  Mattapony;  the  whole 
Indian  force  was  to  assemble  without  making  any  noise, 
and  if  any  brave  was  found  who  had  breathed  a  word  of 
the  conspiracy,  he  was  to  be  immediately  shot  to  death 
and  all  his  family  with  him.  The  whites  were  to  be 
completely  annihilated,  and  no  quarter  was  to  be  shown 
to  either  women,  children,  or  aged  persons.  It  was  a 
great  design,  well  thought  out,  carefully  concealed,  and 
thoroughly  prepared.  Let  us  see  how  it  succeeded. 

When  the  signal  for  attack  was  given,  the  hidden 
warriors  poured  forth  from  the  forest,  and  swept  down 
upon  the  plantations  like  a  flight  of  locusts.  As  in  the 
massacre  many  years  before,  the  Colonists  were  totally 
unprepared  for  this  sudden  advance,  and,  at  first,  hun 
dreds  of  them  fell  before  the  raiding  parties  of  the  blood 
thirsty  red  men.  Five  hundred  men,  women,  and 
children  perished  under  the  tomahawks  of  the  followers 
of  Opechancanough :  the  scourge  of  Virginia.  Many 
others  were  carried  away  in  captivity.  Their  log  houses, 
supplies  of  corn,  household  utensils,  farming  instruments, 
and  live  stock  were  destroyed.  Their  houses  were 
burned  with  all  that  they  contained.  Only  a  few,  who 
lived  in  the  remotest  plantations,  were  able  to  make 
an  escape  to  the  more  thickly  populated  portions  of 
Virginia  and  warn  the  inhabitants  that  the  Indians  were 
again  upon  the  war  path.  Dissensions  among  the 
Colonists  were  speedily  forgotten.  Under  the  dread  of 
a  frightful  slaughter,  the  settlers,  who  had  been  warring 


58  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

with  each  other,  determined  to  march  together  against 
the  red  men.  Their  ploughs  were  left  in  the  furrows. 
All  who  were  able  to  bear  arms  were  enrolled  in  a  militia 
in  defense  of  the  Colony,  and  a  chosen  body,  under  the 
command  of  Governor  Berkeley,  marched  into  the 
enemy's  country.  Blood  was  in  their  eyes,  and  in  their 
hearts  was  the  one  word — revenge. 

The  fighting  which  now  occurred  was  bloody.  No 
historian  has  left  a  record  of  it,  but  we  can  well  imagine 
how  the  infuriated  Englishmen  fell  upon  the  followers 
of  Opechancanough  when  they  found  them.  The 
Indians  were  checked  in  their  advance  upon  the  peaceful 
settlers.  They  were  beaten  back,  defeated  again  and 
again,  and  were  forced  to  give  up  their  invasion.  Berke 
ley's  troops  were  light-armed  and  lightly  dressed,  so 
that  they  could  move  with  speed  against  the  little  war 
riors  of  the  forest.  Some  of  them  had  horses  and  on 
these  they  could  often  head  off  the  flying  redskins  and 
effect  their  capture.  They  did  great  damage  and  often 
routed  the  followers  of  Opechancanough  when  the 
battle  which  they  were  fighting  with  the  English  was 
very  even. 

As  for  Opechancanough,  himself,  he  had  become 
extremely  feeble  and  decrepit  from  old  age  and  was 
unable  to  walk.  Borne  about  on  a  litter  by  four 
stout  braves,  he  directed  the  fighting  of  his  war 
riors  and,  although  weak  in  body,  still  possessed  a 
proud  and  imperious  spirit.  His  flesh  became  macer 
ated,  his  sinews  lost  their  elasticity,  and  his  eyelids  were 
so  heavy  that  he  could  not  see,  unless  they  were  lifted  up 
by  the  hands  of  his  faithful  attendants.  In  this  forlorn 


OPECHANCANOUGH  59 

condition  he  was  directing  the  course  of  a  battle,  when 
Berkeley's  horse  burst  through  the  thicket  in  the  rear 
of  his  men,  and,  terrified  by  fear  of  capture,  his  own  at 
tendants  were  forced  to  run  away.  The  great  Chief  was 
left  upon  the  ground,  and  soon  a  cheering  body  of  Col 
onists  stood  around  him,  howling  with  the  pleasure  of 
having  taken — after  years  of  attempt — the  bold,  reso 
lute  Chief  of  the  Chickahominies  and  their  allied  tribes. 
By  special  command  of  Governor  Berkeley  he  was  care 
fully  carried  to  Jamestown,  where  people  crowded  around 
in  wonder  to  see  the  fallen  monarch  of  the  Virginian 
wild  wood. 

The  English  had  now  lost  their  vindictive  hatred  for 
this  wily  monarch.  They  saw  the  man  who  had  in 
spired  such  terror  in  a  forlorn  and  abject  condition. 
Shattered  by  age  and  misfortune,  he  presented  a  sorry 
appearance,  as  he  lay,  half  dead,  upon  the  litter  of 
boughs  and  deerskins  which  his  own  people  had  fashioned 
for  him.  To  the  honor  of  the  Colonists,  they  treated 
the  distinguished  captive  with  tenderness  and  the  re 
spect  which  his  appearance  and  talents  demanded, 
while  he,  himself,  was  as  proud  and  haughty  as  a  Roman 
Emperor.  He  uttered  no  complaint  or  showed  no  un 
easiness  at  his  capture.  Fearing  that  he  would  be 
tortured,  he  showed  no  humility,  and  was  imperious, 
defiant,  and  spirited  in  his  language  and  demeanor.  So, 
he  lay,  curiously  gazed  upon  by  the  gaping  Colonists, 
and  eagerly  watched  by  the  soldiers  who  had  effected 
his  capture. 

Opechancanough  reclined  thus  for  several  days  at 
tended  by  his  affectionate  Indian  servants,  who  had 


60  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

begged  permission  to  wait  upon  him.  He  was  near 
ninety  years  of  age,  and  it  is  said  that  Governor  Berke 
ley  proposed  to  take  him  to  England,  as  a  living  argu 
ment  to  counteract  the  representations  made  by  some 
persons  in  that  country,  that  Virginian  climate  was  too 
unhealthy  for  any  one  to  gain  long  life  who  resided  there. 
The  great  Chief  was  reserved  and  silent,  and,  as  if 
anxious  to  show  his  English  enemies  that  there  was 
nothing  in  their  presence  to  even  arouse  his  curiosity, 
he  rarely  allowed  his  attendants  to  raise  his  eyelids. 
Thus  he  was  lying,  when  one  of  the  soldiers  set  to  guard 
him  raised  his  gun,  and,  in  a  spirit  of  revenge  for  all  the 
suffering  which  the  great  Chieftain  had  caused,  shot 
him  through  the  back.  He  was  grievously  wounded, 
but  did  not  die  immediately. 

To  the  last  moment  of  his  life,  the  haughty  Opechan- 
canough  preserved  the  dignity  and  serenity  of  his  bear 
ing.  He  made  no  murmur  of  pain  or  fear  and  stolidly 
awaited  the  end  which  was  rapidly  approaching.  Only 
a  few  moments  before  he  expired  he  heard  an  unusual 
amount  of  noise  in  the  room  where  he  lay,  and  request 
ing  his  attendants  to  raise  his  eyelids,  saw  a  number 
of  Colonists  crowding  around  him  in  order  to  gratify 
their  curiosity  and  amazement.  The  dying  Chieftain 
raised  himself  weakly  upon  one  arm,  and,  with  a  voice 
and  air  of  authority,  asked  that  Governor  Berkeley  be 
immediately  called  in.  When  the  latter  made  his  ap 
pearance,  Opechancanough  cried  out,  in  a  thin  and 
trembling  voice:  "Had  it  been  my  fortune,  sir,  to  have 
taken  Sir  William  Berkeley  prisoner,  I  should  never  have 
exposed  you  as  a  show  for  my  people." 


OPECHANCANOUGH  61 

A  few  hours  later  the  mighty  Sachem  breathed  his 
last,  amid  the  weepings  and  lamentations  of  his  Indian 
attendants.  He  had  been  an  implacable  enemy  to  the 
whites;  he  had  led  two  fairly  successful  insurrections 
against  them,  and  he  had  been  the  cause  of  untold 
misery  and  suffering.  Yet,  he  felt  that  his  cause  was  a 
just  one;  he  saw  that  he  must  either  exterminate  the 
English  or  they  would  exterminate  his  own  people,  and 
he  fought  for  the  preservation  of  his  race.  His  own 
countrymen  were  more  under  his  control  than  under 
that  of  Powhatan,  himself,  and  they  considered  him  to 
be  in  no  way  related  to  Powhatan,  but  represented  him 
as  a  prince  of  a  foreign  nation,  come  from  a  great  dis 
tance  somewhere  in  the  southwest:  probably  Mexico. 
He  has  been  called  by  some  a  politic  and  haughty 
prince,  and  one  English  statesman  has  named  him 
the  Hannibal  of  Virginia.  At  any  rate  he  was  a  man 
of  influence,  power,  and  ability.  His  record  is  a  good 
one  for  an  Indian,  and  had  his  followers  been  possessed 
of  the  knowledge  of  civilization  and  warfare  which  the 
white  men  held,  there  is  little  doubt  that  Virginia,  for 
many  years,  would  have  been  the  exclusive  habitation 
of  the  redskins.  Peace  to  the  ashes  of  misguided  and 
unfortunate  Opechancanough  of  Virginia.  He  fought 
for  a  cause  which,  from  his  view-point,  was  as  just  as  that 
of  his  conquerors.  He  was  never  captured  in  battle  un 
til  old  age  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  escape,  and  he 
died  by  a  foul  and  unexpected  blow,  from  one  of  a  race 
which  should  be  well  ashamed  of  such  a  deed. 


SASSACUS  AND  UNCAS:    RIVAL  CHIEF 
TAINS  OF  THE  PEQUOT  REBELLION 

THE  English  are  an  adventurous  people  and  none 
were  more  so  than  burly  Captain  Stone,  a  hardy 
mariner,  who,  in  the  summer  of  1633,  made  a 
coastwise  trip  from  Maine  to  Virginia  in  a  little  schooner. 
Attracted  by  the  broad  harbor  of  the  Connecticut 
River,  he  sailed  by  the  rocky  bluffs  at  the  entrance 
and  was  soon  gliding  between  the  green  hills  which 
roll  back  from  either  side  of  the  sparkling  waters  of  the 
stream.  Charmed  by  the  peaceful  scene,  he  kept  on 
drifting  up  the  winding  water  course,  until  he  finally 
dropped  anchor  beneath  a  headland  covered  with  the 
sweet-scented  bushes  of  the  sumach  and  wild  plum. 

"It  seems  that  this  is  a  likely  place  for  the  partridge 
or  grouse-/'  said  one  of  the  seamen,  as  the  ship  lay 
peacefully  at  anchor  on  the  quiet  water.  "What  say 
you,  good  Captain,  if  I  and  two  others  go  ashore  with  our 
fowling  pieces  to  look  for  game?" 

"Good,"  answered  the  stout  Captain,  "and  if  you 
see  a  deer,  be  sure  and  bring  it  down,  for  we  are  much 
in  need  of  fresh  meat  upon  our  vessel." 

"All  right,  we  will  go  at  once,"  said  the  seaman,  and, 
quickly  selecting  two  companions  who  armed  them 
selves  with  flint-locks,  the  sporting  sea-dogs  were  soon 
ashore  That  night  they  did  not  come  back,  but,  think- 

62 


SASSACUS  AND    UNCAS  63 

ing  that  they  had  wandered  off  in  the  quest  of  venison, 
Captain  Stone  did  not  give  the  matter  a  second  thought. 

When  morning  dawned,  a  canoe,  rilled  with  Indians, 
was  seen  coming  from  the  shore.  "How!  How!"  said 
the  red  men,  when  the  canoe  came  near  the  ship.  "  We 
bring  presents  to  white  man.  We  want  to  see  big  house 
on  water." 

A  Sachem  of  the  Pequot  Indians  was  in  the  bow  of 
the  birch-bark  boat,  and,  as  he  smiled  in  a  friendly 
fashion,  the  Captain  gave  orders  that  he  should  be  al 
lowed  to  come  on  board  with  all  his  dozen  men.  Not 
long  afterwards,  he  was  agreeably  conversing  with 
them  in  his  cabin.  The  crew  were  in  the  cook  room, 
getting  their  luncheon,  when,  overcome  by  the  drowsy 
heat  of  the  day,  and  with  no  suspicion  that  the  red 
skins  were  other  than  peaceful  braves,  the  Captain  fell 
asleep  in  his  bunk. 

Silently  the  Indians  sneaked  to  the  cupboard — where 
the  muskets  were  kept — and  seized  them.  Then,  when 
all  were  passed  to  the  waiting  braves,  the  Sachem  crept 
over  to  the  sleeping  Captain  Stone,  and,  with  one  swift 
blow,  brained  him  with  his  hatchet.  Immediately  his 
followers  rushed  to  the  small  room  where  the  crew  were 
peacefully  eating,  and,  aiming  at  them  through  the 
window,  shot  at  those  who  were  nearest.  All  leaped 
to  their  feet  and  made  a  rush  for  the  door  in  order  to 
grapple  with  their  assailants.  Three  lay  groaning  upon 
the  floor,  as  the  rest  rushed  upon  the  vindictive  savages 
who,  using  their  knives  and  spears,  cut  at  the  sailors 
with  cruel  vengeance.  A  desperate  struggle  commenced. 

The  whites  and  Pequots  struggled  back  and  forth 


64  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

upon  the  narrow  deck,  which  now  grew  slippery  with 
blood.  More  than  one  savage  was  knocked  overboard, 
but,  as  they  outnumbered  the  crew,  it  was  plainly  evi 
dent  that  the  outcome  of  the  struggle  would  be  in  their 
favor.  Suddenly,  a  loud  report  was  heard.  The  decks 
flew  asunder  from  tho  force  of  an  explosion  below.  The 
splitting  timbers  belched  outwards  upon  the  blue 
waters  of  the  quiet  stream,  and,  with  a  muffled  roar, 
both  red  men  and  white  were  shot  into  the  water. 
Somo  clung  to  the  wreckage,  some  hung  on  to  the  canoe 
and  boats,  as — in  lurid  flames  and  black  smoke — the 
remains  of  the  little  schooner  were  burned  to  the  water's 
edge.  But,  although  hurled  into  the  water,  most  of 
the  Pequots  escaped,  were  picked  up  by  their  com 
panions,  and  paddled  back  in  the  canoes  and  ship's  boats 
to  complete  the  massacre.  When  night  came,  only  a 
few  charred  timbers,  floating  upon  the  surface  of  the 
Connecticut,  were  left  to  mark  the  scene  of  the  tragedy. 
This  was  in  1633,  when  the  Puritans  were  well  estab 
lished  at  Plymouth  and  Boston,  and  were  continually 
pushing  into  the  interior  to  find  good  farm  lands. 
Sassacus  was  Chief  Sachem  of  the  warlike  Pequots, 
and,  in  spite  of  this  massacre,  sent  a  messenger  to  the 
Governor  of  Massachusetts — in  the  year  following — 
to  gain  his  friendship  and  alliance.  His  emissary 
brought  two  large  bundles  of  sticks  with  him  and  a 
large  quantity  of  wampum.  "I  will  give  as  many  skins 
of  the  beaver  and  otter  as  I  send  pieces  of  wood,"  was 
the  message  which  King  Sassacus  sent  to  the  Chiof 
Executive  of  Massachusetts,  "and  I  wish  your  friend 
ship  and  allegiance.  Will  you  sign  a  treaty  with  me?" 


SASSACUS  AND  UNCAS  65 

"I  return  you  a  fine  moose-skin  coat,"  answered  the 
Governor  to  this  request,  "but  I  cannot  make  a  treaty 
with  you  unless  you  send  proper  warriors  for  me  to  treat 
with,  and  enough  of  them.  Furthermore,  your  men 
have  murdered  Captain  Stone,  my  friend,  and  I  can 
make  no  peace  with  you  until  you  deliver  to  me  the 
Pequots  who  killed  him  and  his  men." 

Sassacus  was  a  warrior  of  high  renown.  He  had 
twenty-six  sachems,  or  war  captains,  under  his  control, 
and  could  muster — at  any  time — seven  hundred  warriors. 
His  residence  was  upon  the  Atlantic,  at  Groton,  Connecti 
cut,  and  near  the  Mystic  River  he  had  a  splendid  strong 
hold,  situated  upon  a  verdant  eminence,  which  gradually 
descended  to  the  waters  of  the  sparkling  stream.  He 
and  his  men  looked  upon  the  English  as  intruders,  who 
had  no  right  to  come  to  the  soil  of  Connecticut.  But, 
as  the  intrepid  Sassacus  had  warred  with  the  Dutch  at 
New  York,  so  that  they  had  cut  off  his  trade  with  them, 
he  wished  to  now  gain  the  good  will  of  the  English,  near 
Boston.  The  Pequots  were  men  of  the  utmost  inde 
pendence  of  spirit  and  had  conquered  most  of  the  smaller 
tribes  lying  around  them.  They  called  these  people 
whom  they  captured  " women"  and  "cowards." 

"Your  Captain  Stone  took  two  of  our  men,"  said 
the  emissary  from  Sassacus.  "He  detained  them  by 
force  and  made  them  pilot  him  up  the  river.  The 
Captain  and  the  crew  then  landed,  taking  the  guides 
on  shore,  with  their  hands  bound  behind  them.  The 
Pequots  next  fell  upon  the  white  men  and  killed  them. 
The  vessel,  with  the  remainder  of  the  crew,  was  blown 
up,  I  do  not  know  why,  nor  wherefore." 


66  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

This  was  a  pretty  good  story,  and  as  the  Governor  of 
Massachusetts  could  not  substantiate  his  own  side,  he 
was  inclined  to  believe  it,  for  he  had  no  means  of  proving 
its  falsity.  So  a  treaty  was  concluded,  with  the  follow 
ing  terms : 

I.  The  English  to  have  such  land  in  Connecticut  as 
they  needed,  provided  they  would  make  a  settlement 
there;  and  the  Pequots  to  render  them  all  the  assistance 
that  they  could. 

II.  The  Pequots  to  give  the  English  four  hundred 
fathoms  of  wampum,  forty  beaver  and  thirty  otter  skins, 
and  to   surrender  the   two  murderers  whenever  they 
should  be  sent  for. 

III.  The  English  to  send  a  vessel  immediately,  to 
trade  with  them,  as  friends,  but  not  to  fight  them,  and 
the  Pequots  would  give  them  all  their  custom. 

Having  signed  this  document,  the  emissary  from 
Sassacus  and  his  companion  started  back  on  their  five 
days'  journey  to  the  habitation  of  their  Chief.  But, 
unfortunately  for  them,  the  Pequots  were  then  at  war 
with  the  Narragansetts,  and  a  party  of  about  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  warriors  of  the  latter  tribe  had  come  as  far 
as  Neponset  (the  boundary  between  Milton  and  Dor 
chester)  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  waylaying  and  killing 
the  two  Pequots  on  their  way  home.  Learning  of  this, 
the  Governor  sent  an  armed  force  to  request  a  visit  from 
these  Narragansett  braves,  and  two  Sachems — with 
about  twenty  men — obeyed  the  summons.  "We  have 
been  hunting  around  the  country/'  said  they,  "and 
came  to  visit  the  Indians  at  Neponset,  according  to 
old  custom.  We  meant  no  harm  to  the  Pequots.  They 


SASSACUS  AND  UNCAS  67 

can  go  home  in  safety."  And  they  kept  good  this 
promise,  so  that  the  two  Pequots  made  their  return 
trip  in  perfect  security. 

For  two  years  white  settlers  moved  into  Connecticut, 
and  took  up  farms  in  the  most  fertile  places.  But  the 
Indians  were  soon  unfriendly.  An  Englishman  named 
Oldham,  who  had  been  trading  in  Connecticut,  was 
murdered  by  a  party  of  Block  Island  braves,  several  of 
whom  were  said — by  the  frontier  settlers — to  have  taken 
refuge  among  the  Pequots,  who  gave  them  ample  pro 
tection.  When  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts  heard 
of  this,  he  was  exceedingly  wroth,  for  Oldham  was  a 
resident  of  Dorchester  and  was  a  friend  of  his.  So, 
ordering  Captain  Endicott  of  the  State  Militia  to  appear 
before  him,  he  said: 

"I  commission  you,  good  sir,  to  put  to  death  the 
redskins  of  Block  Island,  with  ninety  of  our  soldiers. 
Spare  the  women  and  children,  but  bring  them  away 
and  take  possession  of  the  Island.  Then  go  to  the 
Pequots  and  demand  the  murderers  of  Captain  Stone, 
Oldham,  and  other  Englishmen  who  have  been  killed, 
and  one  thousand  fathom  of  wampum  for  damages.  Also 
get  some  of  their  children  as  hostages,  which,  if  they 
refuse,  you  must  take  by  force." 

Endicott  was  not  long  in  starting  upon  his  mission, 
and  soon  had  captured  Block  Island  and  burned  the 
villages  of  the  natives.  He  then  sailed  for  Pequot 
Harbor,  where  a  warrior  of  the  army  under  Sassacus 
came  out  in  a  canoe  to  demand  who  the  intruders  were. 
The  River  Thames,  where  now  the  rival  crews  of  Yale 
and  Harvard  struggle  for  supremacy  on  the  water, 


68  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

emptied  into  this  harbor,  and  upon  either  bank  were  the 
homes  of  the  Indians. 

"I  wish  to  see  Sassacus,  your  Chief/'  said  Endicott. 

"He  has  gone  to  Long  Island/'  the  Indian  replied. 

"Then  I  wish  to  speak  with  the  next  in  authority," 
continued  the  leader  of  the  Massachusetts  troops,  "and 
I  wish  to  have  the  murderers  of  Oldham  given  up  to  my 
care." 

The  Pequot  brave  did  not  reply  and  paddled  to  the 
shore,  followed  by  the  English  troops,  who  landed  and 
stood — fully  armed — a  short  distance  from  the  beach. 
The  Indians  in  numbers  gathered  around  them,  but 
the  head  Sachem  did  not  put  in  an  appearance.  "He 
will  come/'  said  the  fellow  who  had  been  in  the  canoe, 
"if  you  English  will  lay  down  your  arms.  We  will,  at 
the  same  time,  leave  our  bows  and  arrows  at  a  distance." 

But  Endicott  grew  angry  at  this,  as  he  believed  it  to 
be  a  pretext  for  gaining  time.  "Begone,  you  Pequots," 
he  thundered.  "You  have  dared  the  English  to  come 
and  fight  you,  and  we  are  ready."  The  Indians  with 
drew  to  a  short  distance,  and  then  the  leader  of  the 
whites  ordered  his  men  to  advance.  A  shower  of  arrows 
poured  upon  them,  as  they  did  so,  but  the  English  dis 
charged  a  hot  volley  which  killed  several  and  wounded 
fully  twenty  of  the  redskins.  At  this  they  fled,  while 
the  troops  pressed  on  to  their  village  and  burned  it  to 
the  ground. 

At  night  the  little  army  returned  to  the  five  ships 
which  had  brought  them,  and  next  day  they  went  ashore 
upon  the  west  side  of  the  river  and  burned  all  the  wig 
wams  and  smashed  all  the  canoes  of  the  Pequots'  families 


SASSACUS  AND   UNCAS  69 

who  lived  upon  the  bank  of  the  Thames.  The  Indians 
shot  at  them  from  behind  rocks  and  trees,  but  their 
arrows  did  little  damage,  and  so,  with  the  loss  of  not  a 
single  man,  the  troops  set  sail  for  Boston.  "They  came 
home  all  safe,"  says  a  historian,  "which  was  a  marvelous 
providence  of  God,  that  not  a  hair  fell  from  the  head  of 
any  of  them,  nor  were  there  any  sick  or  wounded  in 
the  little  army." 

Sassacus  was  now  infuriated  with  the  whites.  In 
retaliation  for  this  attack  upon  his  people,  he  ordered 
war  upon  the  white  settlers  of  Connecticut.  The  forts 
and  settlements  of  the  English  were  assaulted  in  every 
direction.  No  boat  could  pass  up  and  down  the  Con 
necticut  River  in  safety.  The  hard-working  farmers 
could  neither  hunt,  fish,  nor  cultivate  their  lands.  People 
went  armed  to  their  work  in  the  fields  and  to  church  on 
Sunday,  while  a  guard  was  stationed  outside  the  meet 
ing  houses  during  service.  At  the  mouth  of  the  Con 
necticut  River,  the  English  had  a  fortification,  called 
Fort  Say  brook.  In  October  five  of  the  garrison  were 
surprised  and  killed,  as  they  were  carrying  in  some 
hay  from  a  field  near  by.  Not  long  afterwards  several 
vessels  were  captured,  and  the  sailors  were  tortured  by 
the  Pequots.  Saybrook  Fort  was  besieged,  the  out 
houses  were  burned,  and  the  few  cattle  that  were  not 
killed  often  came  in  at  night  with  the  arrows  of  the  Pequot 
warriors  sticking  in  their  sides.  Early  in  March  four 
of  the  garrison  were  caught  outside  the  walls  of  the  fort 
and  massacred,  while  a  horde  of  red  warriors  surrounded 
the  stockade  on  all  sides,  challenging  the  English  to  come 
out  and  fight  in  the  open,  mocking  them  with  catcalls, 


70  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

groans,  hisses,  and  imitations  of  the  screams  of  those 
whom  they  had  captured,  and  boasting  that  the  Pequots 
would  soon  drive  all  the  English  into  the  sea.  They 
would  often  rush  up  to  the  gate  in  the  endeavor  to  gain 
an  entrance,  but  a  discharge  of  grapeshot  from  a  cannon 
made  them  retreat  into  the  timber. 

It  is  said  that  a  Puritan,  or  a  New  Englander,  is  slow 
to  anger,  but  once  get  him  aroused  and  he  will  fight  as 
no  other  man  can  fight  on  earth.  This  is  what  put  an 
end  to  Sassacus.  For  when  the  savage  marauders 
threatened  Agawam  (Springfield),  Hartford  and  Wind 
sor,  and  carried  off  several  women  from  WetLersfield, 
the  Massachusetts  colony  sent  an  army  of  ninety  men 
to  Saybrook  Fort,  commanded  by  Captain  John  Mason, 
an  experienced  and  able  soldier.  A  body  of  Mohegan 
Indians,  under  Uncas,  joined  them  here,  for  they  were 
unfriendly  to  Sassacus,  as  he  and  his  savage  Pequots 
had  often  killed  the  members  of  this  tribe.  They  were  to 
prove  of  little  value  in  the  campaign,  but  their  presence 
added  a  spirit  of  confidence  to  the  English  soldiers. 

At  the  head  of  the  Mystic  River,  where  now  is  the 
thriving  town  of  Stonington,  Connecticut,  Sassacus  had 
his  principal  fortification.  It  was  really  a  large  Indian 
town,  surrounded  by  a  stout  palisade,  and  was  crowded 
with  men,  women  and  children.  Mason  decided  to  at 
tack  it,  but,  being  a  good  soldier,  determined  to  throw 
the  watchful  Pequots  off  his  scent.  He,  therefore,  first 
sailed  down  to  the  Pequot  (Thames)  River,  and  pre 
tended  to  land  at  its  mouth.  The  savages  were  closely 
watching  him,  and  when,  instead  of  landing,  he  bore 
away  to  the  southward  and  coasted  along  the  Narra- 


SASSACUS  AND  UNCAS  71 

gansett  Bay,  the  natives  thought  that  he  was  in  retreat. 
"Ugh!  Ugh!"  said  the  warriors.  "He  little  heart. 
He  no  fight!  We  brave  men.  We  can  beat  all  the 
English  in  the  country!" 

But  Mason  was  a  shrewd  campaigner,  and  dropping 
anchor  at  a  point  in  the  bay,  where  he  was  protected 
from  the  prying  eyes  of  the  Pequot  scouts,  he  lay  to  for 
some  time,  and  then  landed  his  soldiers  through  the 
heavy  surf  which  was  then  raging.  Marching  inland, 
he  stopped  at  a  fort  of  the  friendly  Narragansetts,  under 
Canonicus  and  Miantonomo,  who  were  cold  and  dis 
trustful,  saying:  "We  doubt  that  such  a  small  body  of 
you  English  can  carry  the  strong  palisades  of  Sassacus. 
But  we  will  help  you  when  you  advance  upon  them 
tomorrow."  Mason  had  so  little  confidence  in  the  word 
of  these  allies  that  he  surrounded  the  fort,  that  evening, 
with  a  strong  guard,  fearing  that  the  Indians  would  be 
tray  his  approach  to  the  Pequots. 

Next  day  the  little  army  of  white  soldiers  pushed  on 
through  the  woods  in  the  direction  of  the  great  Pequot 
stronghold,  where  the  followers  of  Sassacus  were  resting 
in  fancied  peace  and  security.  It  was  a  hot  day — the 
25th  of  May — and  the  warriors  were  much  oppressed 
by  their  heavy  armor  breastplates  and  the  weight 
of  their  ponderous  flintlocks.  They  forded  the  Pawca- 
tuck  River  and  camped  at  a  place  called  Porter's  Rocks, 
at  the  head  of  the  Mystic  River,  which  was  but  two  miles 
from  the  Pequot  encampment.  Scouts  crept  near  the 
palisades  that  evening,  and  heard  the  sounds  of  songs 
and  laughter  within,  for  the  redskins  were  having  a  big 
feast.  Perfectly  unconscious  of  the  peril  that  lurked 


72  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

so  near  them,  some  of  the  braves  were  boasting  that  the 
English  had  fled  without  striking  a  blow  to  avenge  the 
death  of  thirty  white  settlers  whose  scalps  hung  in  the 
wigwams  of  the  Pequot  braves.  They  danced,  sang, 
and  caroused  until  late  in  the  night. 

Mason  passed  among  his  men,  and  said:  "Sleep  lightly. 
Arouse  yourselves  at  the  first  flush  of  dawn.  When  you 
strike  the  Indians,  fight  like  bloodhounds.  Give  no 
quarter,  for  they  have  given  no  quarter  to  our  people." 

Deep  sleep  hung  over  the  Indian  camp,  as  at  day 
break  the  Puritan  army  started  for  the  stockade. 
Guided  by  Uncas — the  Mohegan  chief — and  Wequash,  a 
Pequot  who  had  turned  traitor  to  his  tribe,  they  were 
soon  led  to  the  outskirts  of  the  sleeping  village.  A 
hush  of  deep  quiet  hung  over  the  habitations  of  Sassacus 
and  his  people.  Robins  piped  from  the  trees.  Song- 
sparrows  trilled  from  the  verdant  underbrush,  and  the 
flute-like  call  of  thrushes  came  from  the  depth  of  the 
wood,  now  beautiful  with  the  fresh  green  of  early 
spring.  It  hardly, seemed  possible  that  scenes  of  dread 
ful  carnage  would  soon  be  enacted  in  the  midst  of  this 
quiet  beauty,  but  silently  and  cautiously  the  men  with 
iron  breastplates  surrounded  the  circular  stockade. 
Behind  them,  their  Indian  allies  formed  a  circle,  but 
advanced  with  no  show  of  courage  or  enthusiasm.  The 
garrison  slept  peacefully  on,  when  suddenly  a  dog 
barked,  and  a  Pequot  warrior,  leaping  to  his  feet  in  alarm, 
cried  out,  "Owanux!  Owanux" — "Englishmen!  Eng 
lishmen!" 

In  front  of  Mason  was  a  barricade  of  brush  heaps  at 
one  entrance  to  the  village.  Opposite  this  was  another 


SASSACUS  AND  UNCAS  73 

opening,  and,  as  the  stout  yeomen  rushed  in  one  door 
way,  led  by  Mason,  an  equal  body  penetrated  the  other, 
cheered  on  by  Underbill.  The  Pequot  braves  seized 
their  bows  and  arrows  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  stem  the 
onslaught,  while  the  women  and  children — in  terror — 
endeavored  to  hide  themselves  beneath  anything  that 
would  cover  them,  or  to  escape  between  the  lines  and 
gain  the  protection  of  the  forest.  Hoarse  cries  rose  in 
the  misty  air.  Muskets  crashed,  children  screamed,  and, 
with  exultant  war  whoops,  the  followers  of  Uncas  shot 
their  arrows  into  the  Pequots,  who  huddled  together  like 
sheep,  in  confusion  and  dismay.  "We  must  burn 
them!"  shouted  Mason,  now  full  of  the  heat  of  battle, 
and  seizing  a  glowing  brand  from  some  smouldering 
ashes,  he  thrust  it  between  the  sticks  of  a  wigwam. 
In  a  moment  the  mats,  with  which  it  was  covered,  were 
alight,  and  the  tepee  blazed  upwards  in  smoke  and  fire. 
Many  soldiers  followed  his  example,  so  that  soon  the 
yelling  mass  of  warriors  were  surrounded  by  black 
smoke  and  curling  flames. 

In  an  unyielding  circle,  the  English  pressed  in  upon 
the  Pequot  braves.  The  flames  crackled,  women 
shrieked,  children  cried,  and  above  the  rattling  of  the 
firearms  sounded  the  vindictive  yelping  of  the  followers 
of  Uncas.  Seventy  wigwams  were  soon  black  in  smoke, 
while  fully  five  hundred  Pequots  were  struck  down  as 
they  endeavored  to  get  past  the  line  of  the  Puritan 
troops.  The  broad  swords  of  the  soldiers  thrust  this 
way  and  that  with  terrible  ferocity.  Back,  back,  they 
pressed  the  cringing  and  desperate  redskins,  who  again 
and  again  threw  themselves  upon  the  ranks  of  the 


74  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Puritans  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  get  through  to  the  safety 
of  the  forest.  Sassacus,  himself,  was  not  there,  but  his 
people  were  receiving  an  awful  chastisement  for  attack 
ing  the  peaceful  settlers  of  Connecticut.  They  battled 
desperately  for  their  lives.  They  strove  manfully  to 
penetrate  the  cordon  of  steel  which  pressed  in  upon 
them,  but  it  was  in  vain.  Within  an  hour's  time  fully 
six  hundred  of  them  lay  dead  or  dying  upon  the  sod, 
while  only  seven  escaped  and  seven  were  taken  captive. 
News  of  the  disaster  was  quickly  brought  to  Sassacus, 
who,  fortunately  for  himself,  was  in  the  next  Pequot 
stronghold,  some  miles  distant.  Dispatching  immedi 
ately  three  hundred  warriors  to  the  scene  of  carnage, 
they  pursued  the  English  very  closely  for  six  miles,  on 
their  march  to  their  ships,  which  had  sailed  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Pequot  (Thames)  River.  The  Narragansett 
warriors  who  had  come  on  with  Mason's  men  had  already 
deserted.  Uncas  and  his  Mohegans  still  remained 
faithful,  and  helped  to  carry  the  wounded  back  to  the 
ships.  Underhill  protected  the  rear  of  the  white  army 
as  it  retreated,  and,  according  to  his  own  account,  killed 
and  wounded  near  a  hundred  of  the  ferocious  Pequots, 
who  burned  to  avenge  the  slaughter  of  the  morning. 
A  third  of  Mason's  men  were  used  up  from  wounds  or 
exhaustion,  but  all  arrived  safely  at  the  ocean  side, 
where  not  only  were  the  ships,  but  also  a  reinforcement 
of  forty  men  from  Boston.  Before  night  closed  in,  all 
were  on  board  and  safe  from  the  attacks  of  the  Pequots, 
who  shook  their  fists  at  them  from  the  shore  and  yelled 
vindictively  at  them,  as  the  white  sails  filled  in  the 
gentle  breeze. 


SASSACUS  AND  UNCAS  75 

The  war  was  not  over  by  any  means.  All  through  the 
summer  skirmishes  were  had  with  the  Indians.  Uncas 
and  his  Mohegans,  with  a  few  English,  were  scouring 
the  shores  near  the  sea  for  the  purpose  of  cutting  off 
stragglers,  when  they  came  upon  a  Pequot  Sachem  and 
a  few  of  his  men,  not  far  from  the  harbor  of  Guilford, 
Connecticut.  They  pursued  them,  and,  as  the  south 
side  of  the  harbor  is  formed  by  a  long  neck  of  land,  the 
Pequots  went  out  upon  it,  hoping  that  their  pursuers 
would  pass  by.  But  Uncas,  who  saw  the  stratagem, 
ordered  some  of  his  Mohegans  to  give  chase,  which  the 
enemy  observed  and  so  jumped  into  the  water  and  swam 
over  to  the  mouth  of  the  harbor.  There  they  were  cap 
tured  by  the  English  soldiers,  who  ran  around  to  head 
them  off.  Uncas,  himself,  is  said  to  have  shot  the 
chief  sachem  with  an  arrow,  to  have  cut  off  his  head, 
and  set  it  hi  the  crotch  of  a  large  oak  tree  near  the 
water.  The  skull  remained  here  for  many  years,  and 
thus  the  name  of  Sachem's-Head  has  ever  since  been 
given  to  this  beautiful  harbor. 

A  large  number  of  the  Pequots  now  deserted  Sassacus 
to  his  fate  and  took  refuge  among  the  Indians  of  New 
York.  Some  even  threatened  to  destroy  him  for 
bringing  down  upon  them  the  anger  of  the  white  settlers, 
and  nothing  but  the  entreaty  of  his  chief  counsellor 
prevented  him  from  being  killed  by  his  own  people. 
Realizing  that  he  could  no  longer  hold  his  own  against 
the  whites,  he  destroyed  his  fort,  and,  with  several 
hundred  of  his  best  men,  retreated  towards  the  Hudson 
River.  To  kill  or  capture  him  was  the  main  object  of 
the  Colonists,  and,  two  captured  Pequots  having  had 


76  FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

their  lives  spared  on  condition  that  they  would  guide  the 
English  to  him,  a  good-sized  force  now  pushed  on 
towards  the  retreating  members  of  the  once  powerful 
Pequot  tribe.  At  last  the  Indians  were  overtaken  near 
Fairfield,  Connecticut,  and  a  fierce  fight  took  place  in 
a  swamp.  The  red  men  fought  with  the  courage  of 
despair,  and  sixty  or  seventy  succeeded  in  forcing  their 
way  through  the  ranks  of  their  assailants;  but  about  two 
hundred  were  captured.  Sassacus,  himself,  escaped. 
Those  Pequots  who  had  not  been  slain  were  hunted 
like  wild  beasts  by  the  other  Indians  of  the  Narragan- 
sett  and  Mohegan  tribes,  and  weekly  their  heads  were 
brought  in  to  Windsor  and  Hartford.  Finally,  the 
entire  tribe  was  obliterated,  and  the  few  remaining 
braves  were  permitted  to  live  with  those  tribes  which 
they  had  called  "cowards"  and  "women." 

Sassacus  was  driven  from  swamp  to  swamp,  by  night 
and  by  day.  Even  his  own  men  hunted  him  and  en 
deavored  to  take  his  life.  One  Pequot  who  was  freed 
by  the  English,  on  condition  that  he  would  find  and 
betray  this  great  chief,  finally  succeeded  in  finding  him. 
Creeping  upon  him  in  one  of  his  solitary  camps,  he  was 
about  to  fire  his  musket,  when  he  was  overcome  by  the 
majestic  look  of  the  great  Sachem.  "I  could  not  pull 
the  trigger,"  he  told  the  English,  "for  my  chief  looked 
like  all  one  God.  I  could  not  touch  a  hair  of  his  head." 
Thus  the  once  powerful  redskin  escaped  and  fled  to  the 
Mohawks  in  New  York,  where  he  arrived  with  five 
hundred  pounds  of  wampum  and  several  of  his  best  cap 
tains  and  bravest  men.  But  here  there  was  to  be  no 
peace  for  the  fugitive.  He  and  his  men  were  treacher- 


SASSACUS  AND  UNCAS  77 

ously  murdered  by  a  party  of  warlike  Mohawks,  and  his 
scalp  sent  to  Connecticut  as  a  present  to  the  English.  A 
lock  of  his  hair  was  soon  carried  to  Boston,  where  it  was 
exhibited  in  a  window  upon  the  streets,  as  a  sure  proof 
of  the  death  of  this  once  powerful  enemy  to  the  whites. 

Uncas — the  Mohegan  ally  of  the  Connecticut  set 
tlers — continued  to  live  at  peace  with  the  Colonists, 
although  granting  nearly  all  his  land  away  for  a  very 
small  consideration.  Thus,  in  1641,  he  gave  away 
several  thousand  acres  for  the  possession  of  four  coats, 
two  kettles,  four  fathoms  of  wampum,  four  hatchets 
and  three  hoes.  In  1659  he  gave  all  his  lands,  with  all 
his  corn,  to  his  old  comrade  and  friend,  Major  John 
Mason,  with  whom  he  had  stormed  the  Pequot  fort  on 
the  Mystic.  He  lived  to  be  a  very  old  man,  and  a 
remnant  of  his  tribe  still  exists  today  near  Norwich, 
Connecticut,  and  are  the  only  natives  still  lingering 
upon  the  soil  of  the  state. 

Sassacus  defied  the  English  and  was  exterminated. 
Uncas  befriended  them  and  lived  a  peaceful  existence. 
Of  the  two,  he  led  the  more  quiet  life,  but  one  cannot 
but  admire  the  fierce,  fighting  spirit  of  Sassacus  and 
regret  that  he  met  such  a  miserable  end.  No  direct 
descendants  of  either  now  exist,  for,  upon  an  old  Indian 
gravestone  at  Mohegan,  a  genial  carver  has  left  the 
following  inscription : 

"Here  lies  the  body  of  Sun-seeto 
Own  son  to  Uncas,  grandson  to  Oneko, 
Who  were  the  famous  Sachems  of  Mohegan: 
But  now  they  are  all  dead. 

I  think  it  is  Werheegen"   (which  means  "all  is  well" 
or  "good  news"  in  the  Mohegan  language). 


78  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Certainly,  the  whites  were  glad  to  see  the  race  ex 
terminated.  It  left  the  country  to  their  own  civiliza 
tion,  and  they  developed  it  according  to  their  own  de 
sires.  Now  brick  and  wooden  houses,  great  factories, 
and  roaring  mills  stand  where  the  red  men  once  had 
their  thin  wigwams;  and  where  they  once  battled 
furiously  with  the  stout  Colonists,  jangling  trolley  cars 
rush  by  in  cheerful  indifference  to  the  dim  records  of 
history. 


MASSASOIT:  THE  GREAT  SACHEM  OF 

THE  WAMPANOAGS  AND  FRIEND 

OF  THE  PURITANS 

WHILE  the  English  were  gradually  settling  their 
plantations  on  the  James  River  in  Virginia  and 
were  encroaching  upon  the  land  held  by  the 
Indians,  other  Englishmen,  driven  from  home  by  re 
ligious  persecution,  and  wishing  to  found  a  colony  in  the 
newly  discovered  country,  had  crossed  the  blue  Atlantic 
to  the  rocky  shore  of  Massachusetts,  where  they  had 
landed,  built  their  log  houses,  and  had  begun  to  wrest 
a  living  from  a  stern  and  unproductive  soil.  They  were 
Pilgrims  and  were  of  a  religious  sect  called  Puritans, 
which  was  most  unpopular  in  their  native  country. 
All  were  men  of  sturdy,  vigorous  natures. 

These  adventurers  first  went  ashore  upon  the  fifteenth 
day  of  November,  and  a  few  walked  up  and  down  until 
the  sun  began  to  draw  low,  when  they  hastened  out  of 
the  woods  in  order  that  they  might  enter  their  boat 
which  was  drawn  up  upon  the  beach.  By  the  time  that 
they  reached  it,  it  was  nearly  dusk,  so,  after  setting  a 
watch,  those  who  had  landed  lay  down  to  rest. 

About  midnight  they  heard  a  great  and  hideous  cry 
from  out  the  woodland,  and  their  sentinel  called  out, 
"Arm!  Arm!"  So  they  leaped  to  their  feet,  and, 

79 


80  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

seizing  some  muskets  which  were  beside  them,  shot  them 
off.  As  they  did  so,  again  the  terrible  wail  sounded 
from  the  forest. 

"  Woach !    Woach !     Ha-Ha-Ha-Hack— Woach ! " 

But  this  soon  ceased,  and  all  was  quiet  in  the  sombre 
woodland. 

Nothing  more  occurred  until  about  five  in  the  morning, 
when  one  of  the  Puritans  came  running  to  the  camp, 
shouting:  "Men  are  coming  to  attack  us!  Indians! 
Indians!"  And,  as  he  spoke,  a  cloud  of  arrows  came 
flying  into  the  encampment.  One  savage  was  soon  seen 
who  fired  at  them  from  behind  a  tree,  and  an  old 
Puritan  took  three  shots  at  him  with  a  musket. 

The  red  man  continued  to  shoot  his  arrows  until  sud 
denly  he  gave  a  terrific  yell,  showing  that  he  had  prob 
ably  been  hit.  At  any  rate  he  retreated  into  the  dense 
forest  with  the  other  braves,  and  nothing  more  was  seen, 
or  heard,  either  from  him,  or  from  them. 

The  Pilgrims  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief,  picked  up  the 
arrows — eighteen  in  all  had  fallen  among  them — and 
marveled  at  their  make.  Some  were  curiously  headed 
with  the  horn  of  a  buck  deer,  and  others  with  the  claw 
of  an  eagle.  So  they  kept  them,  and,  when  the  good 
ship  Mayflower  sailed  for  England,  they  sent  these 
warlike  tokens  back  with  her  to  their  friends  upon  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  The  Indians  who  had  made 
this  assault  were  Nansets,  of  whom  Aspinet  was  the 
chief,  but  whether  or  not  any  of  them  were  slain  in  the 
conflict  does  not  appear  in  the  ancient  record  of  this 
combat. 

After  this  affair  the  sober  Puritans  made  their  abode 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM        81 

and  sailed  carelessly  along  the  coast,  looking  for  a  good 
landing  place,  until  December  llth,  when  they  reached 
a  spot  which  had  a  good  harbor  and  some  high  ground 
beyond  the  beach  which  offered  an  excellent  situation 
for  a  redoubt.  So  here  they  landed,  built  a  long  log 
house,  and  began  their  first  settlement  upon  New 
England  soil.  They  called  their  first  home  Plymouth. 

With  great  toil  and  hard  labor  they  erected  other 
habitations  for  the  settlers.  Their  first  winter  here 
was  one  of  extreme  hardship  and  suffering.  Many  died 
of  starvation  and  exposure,  and  when  spring  came 
the  survivors  were  so  enfeebled  that  an  attack  by  a 
strong  band  of  Indians  could  easily  have  annihilated 
the  entire  settlement. 

On  March  16th,  1621,  the  chief  men  of  Plymouth 
had  assembled  to  discuss  various  matters  of  interest 
in  connection  with  the  welfare  of  the  country,  when 
an  Indian  was  seen  approaching.  With  long  strides 
he  walked  down  the  village  street,  and,  as  the  wary 
Puritans  sprang  to  their  guns,  he  held  out  his  hands, 
and  cried,  " Welcome,  Englishmen!  Welcome!" 

He  was  a  tall,  straight  man,  the  hair  on  his  head  was 
black — short  before  and  long  behind — his  countenance 
was  open  and  friendly,  while  his  carriage  was  graceful 
and  imposing.  He  was  thinly  clad  in  deer  skins,  which 
must  have  afforded  small  warmth  for  the  cold  air  of 
spring,  and  his  moccasins  gave  scarcely  any  protection 
to  his  hardened  feet.  The  Colonists  laid  aside  their 
guns,  when  they  realized  that  the  savage  was  not  armed, 
and  grasped  the  outstretched  hand  of  the  friendly 
neighbor. 


82  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"We  are  glad  to  see  you,"  spoke  one  of  the  hardy 
Englishmen,  "and,  as  you  have  shown  yourself  to  be 
friendly,  we  too  shall  be  friendly." 

"Come,  seat  yourself  among  us  and  partake  of  our 
humble  fare! 

"Ugh!  Ugh!"  grunted  the  savage,  squatting  down 
upon  the  ground,  "I  am  Samoset,  Pemaquid  chief. 
My  hunting  ground  on  Island  Monhegan,  a  day's  sail 
toward  the  rising  sun.  Five  days  if  go  by  land,  near 
Penobscot  River.  Welcome,  Englishmen,  to  country  of 
Massasoit.  I  learn  your  tongue  from  white  fishermen 
who  come  here  not  long  ago." 

This  speech  sounded  as  if  it  were  true,  so,  feeling 
compassion  for  the  poor,  naked  child  of  the  woods,  the 
settlers  presented  him  with  a  hat,  a  pair  of  stockings, 
shoes,  a  shirt,  and  a  piece  of  cloth  to  tie  around  his 
waist.  They  learned  that  the  country  around  them 
was  called  Pawtuxet,  and  that,  four  years  before  their 
arrival,  a  terrible  pestilence  had  swept  off  all  the  tribes 
which  had  inhabited  this  district,  so  that,  as  none  were 
left  to  claim  the  soil,  it  would  be  perfectly  possible  for 
the  English  to  do  so.  Samoset  also  told  them  that  their 
nearest  neighbor  was  a  powerful  Sachem  called  Massa 
soit,  who  was  chief  of  the  Wampanoag  tribe,  as  well  as 
head  sachem  of  the  Pokanoket  Confederacy  of  thirty 
allied  tribes.  This  mighty  chieftain  was  disposed  to 
be  friendly,  continued  Samoset,  but  neighboring  In 
dians,  called  Nansets,  had  been  greatly  angered  by  the 
English,  because  some  years  before,  a  certain  Captain 
Hunt  had  kidnapped  over  twenty  of  their  number 
and  sold  them  into  slavery.  It  would,  therefore,  be 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM       83 

well  for  the  settlers,  said  the  obliging  Samoset,  if  they 
had  no  dealings  with  this  particular  clan,  but  restricted 
their  trade  and  intercourse  with  the  followers  of  Massa- 
soit.  After  a  lengthy  discussion  of  the  climate,  the 
country,  and  the  people,  the  friendly  savage  departed 
with  smiles  and  bows,  which  showed  that  he  was  ap 
parently  much  pleased  with  the  reception  which  the 
English  had  given  him. 

The  unwarlike  visitor  soon  returned  with  four  others, 
who  also  professed  to  be  friendly,  and  who  sang  and 
danced  in  an  open  space  before  the  settlement  to  amuse 
the  sturdy  and  determined  Puritans.  Among  them 
was  Squanto,  an  Indian  who  spoke  excellent  English, 
because  he  had  been  among  those  whom  the  English, 
under  Captain  Hunt,  had  kidnapped  and  sold  into 
slavery  in  Malaga,  for  eighty  pounds  (four  hundred 
dollars)  each,  but  had  been  ransomed  and  liberated  by 
kind-hearted  monks  and  sent  to  England.  Here,  at 
Cornhill,  he  learned  to  make  himself  understood  in  very 
good  English,  and  obtained  the  friendship  and  sympathy 
of  a  wealthy  merchant,  who  housed  him,  fed  him,  and 
eventually  shipped  him  back  to  his  native  shore  in  a 
sailing  vessel,  commanded  by  Captain  Thomas  Dermer. 
This  stout  old  sea-dog  found  that  all  of  Squanto's  race 
had  died  of  a  pestilence  (probably  smallpox)  and, 
therefore,  delivered  him  to  Massasoit,  whose  loyal  sub 
ject  he  became,  and  with  whom  he  was  now  living. 
The  Indians  disposed  of  a  few  skins  and  fish,  and  then 
departed,  teiling  the  settlers  that  the  great  chief  Massa 
soit,  with  his  brother  and  all  his  warriors,  was  near 
at  hand. 


84  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

The  first  appearance  of  the  Chief  of  the  Wampanoags 
was  upon  the  22d  of  March,  1621,  when  he  arrived 
upon  a  hill  opposite  Plymouth,  with  sixty  warriors 
gaudily  arrayed  in  their  best  deerskin  raiment.  Massa- 
soit  is  described  by  one  of  the  settlers  as  being  "a  very 
lusty  man,  in  his  best  years,  with  an  able  body,  grave  of 
countenance  and  spare  of  speech.7'  In  his  attire  he 
differed  little  from  the  rest  of  his  followers,  save  that  he 
wore  a  large  chain  of  white  bone  beads  about  his  neck 
which  had  suspended  from  it  behind  a  little  bag  of 
tobacco.  His  face  was  painted  a  darkish  red,  and  both 
his  head  and  face  were  so  oiled  that  he  looked  very 
greasy.  The  only  weapon  upon  his  person  was  a  long 
knife  swinging  from  his  bosom  by  a  string;  although  his 
attendants  carried  war  clubs,  knives,  and  bows  and 
arrows.  Some  of  his  followers — all  tall,  strong  men — 
were  painted  black,  others  red,  yellow,  and  white.  They 
were  dressed  in  furs  or  skins  of  various  kinds,  and  made 
a  very  good  showing — such  a  good  showing,  indeed, 
that  the  English  feared  an  attack  and  stood  prepared 
for  any  sign  of  violence  that  the  Wampanoags  might  offer. 

The  Indians  seemed  to  be  unwilling  to  approach  any 
nearer,  and,  as  they  hesitated,  the  English  determined 
to  find  out  why  they  would  not  advance.  As  luck 
would  have  it,  Squanto  was  in  Plymouth,  so  he  was 
dispatched  to  ascertain  their  designs,  and  they  gave  him 
to  understand  that  they  wished  to  have  some  one  sent 
to  hold  a  parley  with  them.  So  Edward  Winslow  was 
selected  to  go  over  to  their  position  with  presents  to  the 
sachem  and  with  directions  to  endeavor  to  patch  up  a 
treaty  of  peace.  Winslow  was  an  excellent  diplomat; 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM       85 

he  addressed  them  in  a  speech  of  some  length,  and, 
although  the  Wampanoags  listened  with  much  gravity, 
it  is  doubtful  whether  or  not  they  understood  it  thor 
oughly,  although  an  Indian  interpreter  explained  the 
gallant  Winslow's  words,  after  he  had  spoken.  The 
Englishman  told  them  that  King  James  of  England 
sent  his  best  and  kindest  regards  to  Massasoit,  his 
brother,  and  that  he  hoped  to  have  him  as  his  friend 
and  ally.  Furthermore,  that  the  Governor  of  Plymouth 
wished  to  see  him  and  to  treat  with  him  upon  terms  of 
the  greatest  friendliness.  Massasoit  listened  with  polite 
attention,  and  seems  to  have  made  no  special  reply  to 
this  harangue,  but  to  have  gazed  upon  the  sword  and 
armor  of  the  Captain  with  envious  eyes. 

"I  wish  to  buy  your  iron  breastplate  and  your  war 
instruments,"  said  the  old  chief,  through  the  interpreter, 
as  Winslow  paused  for  breath.  "What  do  you  wish 
for  them?" 

The  Captain  smiled  with  good  humor.  "They  are  not 
for  sale,  my  friend,"  said  he.  "For  I  need  them  sorely 
in  my  duties  among  my  own  people." 

"I  will  go  among  them,"  said  Massasoit,  rising. 
"And  I  will  leave  you  with  my  brother,  while  I  and 
twenty  of  my  men  walk  over  to  the  English  camp." 

So  saying,  he  crossed  the  brook  between  him  and 
the  English,  taking  twenty  of  the  Wampanoags,  who 
were  directed  to  leave  their  bows  and  arrows  behind 
them.  Captain  Miles  Standish  and  another  Puritan, 
with  six  armed  men,  met  him  beyond  the  water,  ex 
changed  salutations  with  the  majestic  Indian,  and  took 
him  to  one  of  the  best  houses  in  the  village.  A  stone 


86  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

arch  has,  in  late  years,  been  thrown  over  this  brook  to 
show  where  this  first  meeting  between  the  great  chief 
and  the  whites  took  place,  while  the  hill  upon  which 
the  Indians  camped — called  "Strawberry  Hill" — is  still 
pointed  out  to  those  who  are  interested  in  the  history 
of  America. 

In  the  cabin  to  which  Massasoit  was  conducted  a 
green  rug  was  placed  upon  the  floor  and  three  or  four 
cushions  were  piled  upon  it,  in  order  to  make  it  com 
fortable.  After  the  noted  chieftain  had  gone  inside,  the 
Governor  of  Plymouth  entered  the  house,  followed  by 
several  soldiers  who  beat  a  drum  loudly  and  blared  upon 
a  trumpet,  which  delighted  and  astonished  the  Wam- 
panoags.  The  Governor  hurried  up  to  the  Sachem, 
and  seizing  him  in  his  arms,  kissed  him  upon  the  cheek, 
a  salutation  which  was  immediately  returned  by  the 
chief,  and,  considering  the  fact  that  he  was  covered 
with  both  grease  and  red  paint,  it  could  not  have  been 
a  very  satisfactory  affair  for  the  Englishman.  He 
made  no  grievance,  however,  and  commanded  that  all 
seat  themselves  at  a  long  table,  upon  which  a  feast  was 
spread.  After  a  sumptuous  repast,  in  which  "strong 
waters,  which  the  savages  love  only  too  well, "  were 
served,  a  treaty  was  concluded,  with  the  following 
terms: 

1st.  That  neither  Massasoit  nor  any  of  his  people 
should  do  any  hurt  to  any  of  the  English. 

2d.  That  if  any  Indian  should  injure  an  Englishman, 
the  offender  would  be  sent  to  Plymouth  in  order  that 
he  might  be  punished. 

3rd.  That  if  anything  were  stolen  from  the  Indians, 


THE   MEETING    OF    MASSASOIT   AND   GOVERNOR   CARVER. 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT   SACHEM       87 

the  Governor  of  Plymouth  would  cause  it  to  be  returned, 
and  the  Indian  would  do  likewise  toward  the  English. 

4th.  That  if  any  unjust  war  were  brought  against  the 
Wampanoags,  the  English  would  aid  them  in  defeating 
their  adversaries,  and  that  if  anyone  unjustly  warred 
against  the  English,  Massasoit  would  aid  them. 

5th.  That  in  case  of  actual  warfare,  the  English 
Governor  would  send  confederates  to  warn  Massasoit 
of  the  fact. 

6th.  That  whenever  the  English  came  to  the  camp  of 
the  Wampanoags,  they  should  leave  their  arms  behind 
them. 

7th.  That  if  Massasoit  should  do  this,  King  James  of 
England  would  consider  him  as  his  perpetual  friend 
and  ally. 

This  seemed  to  please  the  great  Sachem  greatly,  for 
he  not  only  agreed  to  it,  but  acknowledged  King  James 
of  England  to  be  his  Sovereign,  and  gave  him  all  his 
adjacent  lands  for  his  subjects  to  live  on  forever.  It 
was  a  treaty  upon  peaceable  and  honorable  terms;  the 
Indians  came  to  Plymouth  to  make  it  of  their  own  free 
will,  and,  although  for  all  the  land  which  they  granted 
to  the  English  they  received  only  a  pair  of  knives  and  a 
copper  chain  with  a  jewel  in  it,  a  pot  of  " strong  water/' 
a  quantity  of  biscuit  and  some  butter  for  Quadepinah — 
the  brother  of  Massasoit — it  is  pleasant  to  know  that 
this  agreement  was  unbroken  for  fifty  years.  Massa 
soit,  himself,  did  well  to  obtain  the  friendship  of  the 
English,  for  the  powerful  tribes  of  Narragansetts  were 
his  enemies,  and  they  were  now  afraid  to  attack  his 
camps.  The  Puritans  also  benefitted  from  this  agree- 


88  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

ment,  as  they  obtained  an  opportunity  for  profitable 
trade  in  peace  and  seclusion. 

There  were  about  twenty  different  tribes  in  New 
England,  at  this  time,  and,  although  mainly  independ 
ent  of  each  other,  they  sometimes  united  for  the  purpose 
of  making  war  upon  a  common  enemy.  The  Pequots, 
Narragansetts,  Pokanokets,  Massachusetts,  and  Paw- 
tuckets  were  the  more  powerful,  although  the  Mohegans, 
the  Nipmucks,  and  Abenakis  of  Maine  were  also  promi 
nent.  The  Pequots  numbered  only  about  four  thou 
sand,  in  all,  while  the  Narragansetts  of  Rhode  Island — 
with  about  one  thousand  warriors — were  next  in  point 
of  numbers.  The  other  tribes  were  smaller  still,  so  it 
can  be  readily  seen  that  this  band  of  hardy  pioneers 
could,  with  their  armor  and  firearms,  have  competed  in 
battle  with  even  the  most  powerful  of  these,  although, 
should  all  have  combined  against  them,  their  doom 
would  have  been  sure.  Massasoit's  people,  the  Wam- 
panoags,  were  a  part  of  the  Massachusetts  Indians,  and 
lived  between  Plymouth  and  Narragansett  Bay.  They 
were  sometimes  called  Pokanokets.  To  the  south 
they  had  the  Nansets,  as  neighbors,  on  Cape  Cod;  the 
Pennacooks,  on  the  northern  frontier  extending  into 
New  Hampshire;  and- the  Nipmucks  in  central  Massa 
chusetts  extending  into  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island. 
The  Pawtuckets,  who  had  been  nearly  destroyed  by 
the  great  pestilence,  were  north  of  the  tribes  of  Massa 
chusetts,  and  included  the  Pennacooks  and  other  small 
clans.  Massasoit's  home  was  at  Mount  Hope,  where 
now  stands  the  town  of  Bristol,  Rhode  Island,  a  seaport 
upon  the  wide  waters  of  Narragansett  Bay. 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM       89 

After  the  famous  treaty  between  the  Wampanoag 
Sachem  and  the  English  had  been  drawn  and  signed, 
Massasoit  was  conducted  back  to  his  own  people  by  the 
Governor  himself.  Hostages  were  left  behind  and  soon 
his  brother  Quadepinah  came  down  the  brook  with  a 
retinue  of  followers.  He,  too,  was  well  entertained  and 
so  well  pleased  that,  upon  the  day  following,  Standish 
and  Allerton — two  of  the  more  prominent  Englishmen — 
were  invited  to  come  to  the  Indian  camp,  where  they 
were  regaled  with  three  or  four  groundnuts  and  some 
tobacco.  In  return  for  this  kind  treatment,  the  Gov 
ernor  of  Plymouth  sent  for  the  chief's  kettle  and  returned 
it  filled  to  the  brim  with  peas,  a  vegetable  which  the 
Wampanoags  had  never  before  seen.  This  pleased 
Massasoit  mightily,  and,  next  morning,  he  and  his  entire 
retinue  returned  towards  their  own  homes,  with  laughter, 
smiles  and  many  evidences  of  good  feeling  towards  the 
Puritans. 

Squanto — the  only  survivor  of  the  tribe  of  Patuxets 
who  had  originally  lived  here — became  an  intimate  and 
valued  friend  of  the  English.  He  taught  the  Puritans 
how  to  plant  maize,  or  Indian  corn,  and  how  to  enrich 
the  soil,  by  spreading  over  it  the  remains  of  alewives — 
fish  which  ran  up  the  brooks  in  April  to  spawn.  This 
proved  a  great  value  to  the  Colonists,  for  the  wheat  and 
peas  which  they  had  brought  from  England  with  them, 
turned  out  to  be  almost  worthless.  Later  in  the  year 
the  Indian  guided  two  ambassadors  (Winslow  and  Hop 
kins)  across  the  country  to  Massasoit's  chief  village  of 
Pokanoket  (now  Warren,  Rhode  Island),  in  order  that 
the  treaty  of  peace  which  had  been  made  with  them 


90  FAMOUS    INDIAN  CHIEFS 

might  be  confirmed.  It  was  in  summer — a  period  of 
softness  and  beauty  in  Massachusetts — and  so  the  two 
Puritans,  as  they  journeyed  through  the  undulating 
country,  studied  its  character  and  soil  and  became 
acquainted  with  the  situation  of  the  neighboring  tribes. 
Game  was  plentiful,  especially  wild  turkeys,  which 
have  long  since  disappeared  from  the  Atlantic  Coast, 
and  those  left  behind  by  the  hardy  emissaries  were  busy 
with  fishing,  deer  hunting,  and  watching  the  corn  crop. 
This  grew  well,  was  cut  and  stored  for  the  winter,  and, 
with  an  abundance  of  dried  fish  and  jerked  venison,  the 
Colonists  looked  forward  to  a  much  better  winter  than 
that  of  the  year  previous. 

Shortly  afterwards,  the  Narragansett  Indians  sent  a 
bundle  of  arrows  tied  together  with  the  skin  of  a  rattle 
snake  to  the  Colonists,  and — although  these  were  known 
to  be  most  warlike  of  all  the  surrounding  tribes — in 
token  of  defiance,  the  skin  was  stuffed  with  powder  and 
ball,  and  returned.  An  attack  was  now  expected  and 
so  a  palisade  was  erected  outside  the  row  of  huts,  but, 
although  the  Narragansetts  were  evidently  at  no  loss  to 
understand  the  meaning  of  the  answer  which  the  Puri 
tans  had  sent,  they  left  the  settlement  alone. 

At  the  first  Indian  town  to  which  the  two  ambassadors 
came,  they  were  greeted  by  the  Wampanoags  with  gen 
erous  but  humble  hospitality.  The  Indians  gave  them 
cold  cornbread,  fish,  and  boiled,  musty  acorns.  After 
the  meal,  Winslow  shot  at  a  crow  with  his  musket,  and, 
as^he  killed  it  at  quite  a  distance,  the  natives  were 
greatly  astonished  and  amused.  With  a  show  of  true 
kindliness,  the  two  Puritans  were  directed  to  another 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM       91 

Indian  town,  some  eight  miles  distant,  where  they 
were  welcomed  by  a  party  who  were  catching  great 
numbers  of  fine  bass  in  the  Taunton  River,  and  who  not 
only  gave  them  a  supper  but  also  a  breakfast  next 
morning.  Attended  by  six  of  their  hosts,  upon  the 
following  day,  they  were  crossing  the  river,  when  two 
old  Indians  upon  the  opposite  bank  ran  swiftly  and 
stealthily  among  the  high  grasses  to  meet  them,  and 
then  with  loud  voices  and  drawn  bows  demanded  who 
they  were.  Seeing  that  they  were  friends,  their  hos 
tility  turned  to  welcome,  and,  instead  of  shooting  at 
them,  the  unfriendly  braves  gave  them  food.  In  return 
they  received  a  small  bracelet  of  beads.  After  one  other 
stop  the  travelers  reached  Sowams,  or  Mount  Hope — 
the  home  of  Massasoit. 

The  great  Sachem  was  not  at  home,  at  first,  but  soon 
arrived,  to  be  greeted  by  the  two  Englishmen  by  the 
discharge  of  their  muskets.  This  startled  the  aged 
warrior,  but  pleased  him  also,  so  he  welcomed  the  two 
guests  with  kindness  and  took  them  to  his  lodge.  After 
seating  themselves,  the  Englishmen  delivered  to  their 
host  a  coat  of  red  cotton  heavily  embroidered  with 
fine  lace,  and  a  long  chain  of  copper  and  beads.  The 
chief  immediately  put  this  on — much  to  the  astonish 
ment  of  the  Wampanoags — who  gazed  at  him  from  a 
respectful  distance  with  awe  and  unspeakable  admira 
tion,  as  he  listened  to  the  message  from  the  English 
governor.  This  was  to  the  effect  that  the  Puritans 
trusted  that  the  peace  which  so  far  existed  between 
them  should  be  continued,  and  that,  as  Massasoit's 
people  (particularly  his  women  and  children)  came 


92  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

frequently  to  Plymouth  and  were  always  most  welcome, 
the  Colonists  feared  that  their  corn  would  be  insufficient 
in  the  future  to  give  them  proper  entertainment.  So 
the  Governor  requested  that  Massasoit  would  not  be 
angered,  if,  in  the  next  months,  the  Colonists  did  not 
feed  his  Indians  as  sumptuously  as  heretofore,  when 
they  came  to  them  upon  a  visit.  But  if  Massasoit  him 
self  should  come  to  Plymouth,  or  any  friend  of  his,  he 
would  be  welcome  and  most  hospitably  received. 
"Furthermore,"  said  Winslow,  in  closing,  "I  trust  that 
the  Pokanokets,  who  have  furs,  shall  be  permitted  to 
sell  them  to  us,  for  we  can  send  them  to  our  brothers  in 
England,  in  exchange  for  many  things  which  we  need  in 
the  colony." 

"I  hear  the  good  speech  of  my  English  brother,"  said 
Massasoit,  "and  it  pleases  me  much  to  see  them  with  me. 
You  ask  me  to  keep  my  people  from  Plymouth  until  you 
know  the  abundance  of  your  harvest.  That  I  will  do, 
for  do  not  I  command  all  the  country  about  you?  Are 
not  all  the  towns  about  here  of  my  dominions  and  the 
people  in  them?  And,  if  I  shall  tell  them  to  bring  me 
their  skins,  that  they  will  do.  I  have  thirty  settlements 
which  I  rule  over,  and  they  shall  do  as  I  command." 

"Thank  you,  good  chief,"  replied  Winslow.  "I  am 
sure  that  what  you  say  shall  be  followed  out.  Now  let 
us  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace  and  further  cement  our 
friendship." 

To  this  the  friendly  chief  seemed  to  be  agreeable,  but, 
after  the  pipe  had  been  passed  around,  it  was  seen  that 
the  hour  was  late,  and  consequently  Massasoit  offered 
the  two  ambassadors  a  bed  in  his  own  cabin.  He  and 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM       93 

his  wife  slept  at  one  end  upon  a  plank  platform,  raised 
a  foot  or  two  from  the  ground  and  covered  with  a  thin 
mat,  and  the  Englishmen  were  requested  to  find  a  sleep 
ing  place  upon  the  other  end.  This  they  did,  but  so  hard 
was  the  flooring,  and  so  vicious  were  the  Rhode  Island 
mosquitoes  that  both  scarce  slept  at  all,  particularly 
as  two  Indians,  whom  the  Sachem  had  placed  outside 
as  a  bodyguard,  walked  up  and  down  during  the  entire 
evening,  vigorously  slapping  at  the  buzzing  insects  and 
making  such  a  noise  that  it  was  impossible  not  to  be 
kept  wide  awake. 

Finally  morning  dawned,  and  the  two  unhappy  men 
were  soon  breakfasting  on  cornbread  and  boiled  water, 
while  numerous  Indians  began  to  stream  into  camp  from 
neighboring  settlements.  By  noon  a  goodly  number 
had  arrived,  and  Massasoit — with  true  hospitality — 
made  them  all  seat  themselves  and  partake  of  a  meal  of 
boiled  fish,  which  he  himself  had  speared  with  arrows 
as  they  swam  in  the  Taunton  River.  Afterwards  the 
savages  held  a  running  race  and  other  games,  until  the 
descending  sun  warned  them  that  evening  was  approach 
ing.  Then  with  many  grunts,  smiles,  and  protestations 
of  affection,  the  visiting  braves  departed  to  their  own 
homes.  The  two  Englishmen  also  begged  to  be  ex 
cused,  as  the  barbarous  singing  of  the  Indians  at  night, 
coupled  with  the  buzzing  and  stings  of  mosquitoes, 
made  them  long  for  quiet  Plymouth  where  netting  of 
twine  was  stretched  over  the  windows  to  keep  out  the 
pests.  So  they  also  said  adieu  to  kind-hearted  Massa 
soit,  who  bade  them  a  warm  and  tender  farewell. 

In  March,  1622,  an  incident  occurred  which  came  near 


94  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

putting  an  end  to  this  strong  friendship  between  the 
Wampanoag  Sachem  and  the  English,  for  an  Indian 
came  rushing  breathlessly  in  among  a  party  of  Colonists, 
with  his  face  gashed  and  the  blood  running  from  it, 
calling  out  to  them  to  run  quickly  to  shelter,  as  his 
countrymen  were  on  the  warpath.  They  eagerly 
questioned  him,  and  were  told  that  the  savages,  under 
Massasoit,  were  congregating  at  a  certain  place  in  order 
to  make  an  attack  upon  the  colony  and  that  he  had  been 
wounded  by  them  because  he  had  opposed  their  base 
designs.  Immediately  the  Puritans  ran  to  arms  and 
prepared  for  a  stout  defense  of  Plymouth,  although  a 
Pokanoket  Indian  named  Hobbammak,  who  made  his 
home  with  the  Colonists,  stoutly  denied  that  the  fugitive 
had  spoken  the  truth.  "  Send  you  to  Sowams,  the  home 
of  Massasoit,"  said  he,  "and  you  will  soon  find  that  this 
story  is  false.  I  know  that  Squanto  has  caused  this  man 
to  run  to  you,  thus." 

"This  I  will  do,"  said  the  Governor,  and  forthwith 
dispatched  a  messenger  to  the  Sachem's  residence,  who 
arrived  only  to  find  that  everything  was  in  its  accustomed 
condition  of  peace  and  tranquility.  He  consequently 
told  Massasoit  of  the  reports  circulated  against  him, 
which  enraged  the  good  Sachem  tremendously  and  caused 
him  to  utter  many  uncomplimentary  remarks  about 
Squanto,  whom — it  was  understood — had  instigated 
the  action  of  the  Indian  out  of  a  spirit  of  malicious  mis 
chief.  "Let  me  but  catch  this  Squanto,"  shouted 
Massasoit,  "and  I  will  teach  him  not  to  meddle  with 
my  own  private  affairs.  But  go  tell  the  Governor  of 
Plymouth,"  he  continued,  "that  I  am  glad  to  hear  that 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT   SACHEM        95 

he  himself  has  not  believed  the  idle  talk  of  this  lying 
Indian.  Tell  him  that,  if  any  conspiracy  against  him 
ever  does  take  place,  I  myself  will  be  the  first  to  send 
him  word  of  it."  And  with  these  declarations  of  strict 
friendship  and  integrity  ringing  in  his  ears,  the  mes 
senger  returned  to  Plymouth  and  quickly  quieted  the 
fears  of  the  waiting  Colonists. 

Squanto  died  in  November  on  an  expedition  fitted 
out  by  Governor  Bradford  for  obtaining  corn  from  the 
Indians,  and  so  perished  the  last  aboriginal  of  the 
Plymouth  soil.  He  had  been  serviceable  to  the  English, 
but  quite  anxious  to  have  credit  for  that  fact  among  his 
own  countrymen,  and  on  one  occasion  amused  himself 
by  telling  his  own  people  that  the  whites  kept  the  plague 
pent  up  in  their  cellars,  and  that  they  intended  to  make 
war  upon  various  tribes.  This  was  done  in  order  that 
they  would  employ  him  to  mediate  between  them  and 
the  English  for  a  certain  sum,  and,  of  course,  when  so 
hired,  he  always  succeeded  in  settling  the  difficulty. 

As  for  Massasoit,  his  friendship  for  the  English  con 
tinued,  for  no  attacks  were  made  upon  the  settlement 
during  the  entire  winter.  Early  in  the  spring  of  that 
year  (1623),  a  runner  came  in  from  his  settlement  bear 
ing  the  news  that  the  great  Sachem  lay  dangerously  ill 
at  Sowams,  and  begged  that  someone  who  had  medical 
knowledge  would  come  to  his  assistance:  a  fact  which 
showed  that  he  put  great  faith  in  the  superior  intellect 
and  attainments  of  the  English.  So  Edward  Winslow 
was  sent  to  visit  him,  as  a  token  of  the  friendship  of  the 
Colonists,  and  he  was  accompanied  by  another  English 
gentleman — a  Mr.  John  Hampden — who  had  some 


96  FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

knowledge  of  medicine — who  brought  with  him  some 
cordials  and  other  alcoholic  beverages. 

The  two  Englishmen  had  gone  but  a  short  journey, 
when  an  Indian  met  them  who  had  tears  in  his  eyes. 
"  Massasoit  is  dead/'  said  he.  " The  great  chief  has  gone 
to  the  happy  hunting  grounds."  At  this,  the  Indian 
guide  named  Hobbammak,  whom  they  had  with  them 
as  guide  and  interpreter,  began  to  wail  a  death  song. 
"0  Great  Sachem,  0  Great  Heart,  with  many  have  I 
been  acquainted,"  he  cried, " but  none  ever  equaled 
him.  His  like,  oh,  Master  Winslow,  you  shall  never  see 
again,  for  he  was  not  false,  bloody,  and  unpeaceable  like 
other  Indians,  but  kind,  easily  appeased  when  angry,  and 
most  reasonable  in  his  requirements.  He  was  a  wise 
Sachem,  not  ashamed  to  ask  advice,  and  governed  better 
with  mild  measures  than  other  chiefs  did  with  severe 
ones.  I  fear,  now  that  he  is  dead,  that  you  have  not  one 
faithful  friend  left  in  the  wigwams  of  the  red  men." 

1 1  Time  presses,  Hobbammak, ' '  said  Winslow.  l '  Leave 
off  wringing  your  hands  and  your  loud  lamentations. 
We  must  trudge  along,  and  hasten  to  the  tepee  of  Massa 
soit,  for  he  may  not  now  be  dead  and  these  stories  may 
be  false." 

So  saying,  they  hastened  on  through  the  forest  and 
soon  came  to  a  village  of  a  sub-chief  called  Corbetant, 
who  was  not  at  home.  But  his  squaw  came  running  to 
meet  the  white  men,  crying:  "Hasten,  hasten,  Massa 
soit  is  not  yet  dead,  but  if  you  run  quickly  you  will 
arrive  in  time  to  breathe  a  prayer  over  his  body." 

The  two  Englishmen  redoubled  their  speed,  and  soon 
arrived  at  Massasoit 's  village,  where  they  found  the  great 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM       97 

Sachem's  house  so  full  of  his  followers  that  they  could 
scarcely  get  inside.  The  Indians  were  making  a  "fiend 
ish  noise/'  while  about  the  prostrate  body  of  the  chief  were 
six  or  eight  women  who  chafed  his  arms,  legs,  and  thighs 
to  keep  the  heat  in  them.  But — seeing  Winslow  and 
Hampden  in  the  doorway — one  of  them  cried  out, 
"The  English  have  come,  0  chief.  Here  are  two  of  the 
white  men!" 

Massasoit  endeavored  to  look  in  their  direction,  but 
his  sight  was  wholly  gone  and  he  could  see  nothing. 
"Who  has  come?"  said  he. 

"Winsnow  has  come,"  said  one  of  the  Indians,  who 
called  the  Englishman  by  the  name  he  was  known  by 
among  the  Wampanoags. 

"Let  me  speak  with  him,  then.  Let  me  speak  one 
word  with  him,"  muttered  the  great  Sachem. 

Winslow  stepped  forward  to  the  matted  platform 
where  he  lay,  and  grasped  the  feeble  hand  which  the 
emasculated  Indian  held  out  to  him. 

"Art  thou  Winsnow?"  whispered  Massasoit.  "Art 
thou,  indeed,  Winsnow?  0  Winsnow,  I  shall  never 
see  thee  again,  for  I  go  to  the  Great  Spirit — to  the  land 
of  the  Hereafter." 

"I  do  not  think  that  thee  will  die,"  said  Winslow 
soothingly.  "  Here,  Hobbammak,  bring  me  the  cordials 
which  I  have  transported  hither  for  the  good  King  of 
the  Wampanoags!"  And  as  the  guide  presented  them 
to  him,  he  soon  poured  some  liquid  into  a  cup  and  gave 
it  to  the  weakened  Sachem.  The  effect  was  immediate. 
With  several  more  drafts,  the  chief  began  to  show  signs 
of  renewed  strength,  and,  after  he  had  lain  quietly  for 


98  FAMOUS  INDIAN   CHIEFS 

an  hour,  he  was  so  much  improved  that  his  eyesight 
began  to  return. 

"Now  I  know  that  the  English  are  my  friends/'  cried 
Massasoit.  "Now  I  know  that  they  love  me,  and  while 
I  live  I  will  not  ever  forget  this  kindness,  and  here,  good 
Winsnow,  bring  me  some  English  pottage  from  a  roasted 
fowl,  as  I  have  seen  you  English  make  at  Plymouth,  and 
I  shall  grow  entirely  well." 

This  was  done  for  him,  and  so  much  other  care  ad 
ministered  to  the  sinking  chieftain  that  his  strength 
and  appetite  were  wonderfully  restored.  In  two  days' 
time  he  was  up  and  about,  while  his  attendants  show 
ered  Winslow  and  Hampden  with  expressions  of  grati 
tude.  Meanwhile  the  fame  of  the  kindly  Winslow,  as  a 
physician,  spread  so  rapidly  that  crowds  gathered  in  an 
encampment  around  Montaup,  in  order  to  have  him 
prescribe  for  their  various  ills.  Some,  indeed,  came 
from  a  distance  of  from  sixty  to  a  hundred  miles,  and 
the  ready  made  physician  might  have  remained  with 
them  indefinitely,  had  not  rumors  of  a  conspiracy  among 
the  Pokanokets  and  other  Indians  of  Massachusetts 
against  the  settlement  of  Plymouth  soon  decided  the 
two  wayfarers  to  return.  Information  of  their  plot  was 
told  to  Hobbammak  by  Massasoit,  who  said  that  he, 
himself,  had  been  invited  to  join  in  it.  "A  chief  was 
here  at  the  setting  of  the  sun,"  said  he,  "and  he  told 
me  that  the  palefaces  did  not  love  me,  else  they  would 
visit  me  in  my  pain,  and  he  urged  me  to  join  their  war 
party.  But  I  said  no.  Now,  Hobbammak,  go  tell 
Winsnow  to  take  the  chiefs  of  this  league  and  kill  them, 
and  it  will  end  the  war-trail  in  the  blood  of  those  that 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM       99 

made  it,  and  will  save  the  inhabitants  of  the  settle 
ment."  This  advice  was  afterwards  taken  by  Miles 
Standish  and  his  men,  who,  with  little  difficulty,  captured 
and  put  to  death  the  very  Indians  who  had  plotted 
against  the  peaceful  Puritans.  But  Winslow  and 
Hampden,  thinking  that  their  presence  would  be  of 
far  more  value  at  Plymouth  than  at  Sowams,  quickly 
bade  adieu  to  the  aged  chieftain  and  were  soon  hastening 
towards  the  unprotected  settlement  upon  the  seacoast 
which  they  had  left  behind  them. 

Nine  years  after  this  the  Narragansetts  went  upon 
the  warpath  against  Massasoit,  and  attacked  him  so 
vigorously  at  Sowams  that  he  was  obliged  to  take  refuge 
in  the  wooden  house  which  an  Englishman  had  erected 
near  by.  Here  he  held  the  enemy  at  bay,  while  one  of 
his  own  braves  bore  news  of  his  predicament  to  the 
English  at  Plymouth,  who  immediately  sent  an  armed 
force  to  his  relief  under  the  command  of  Miles  Standish. 
The  Narragansetts  had  learned  to  fear  the  guns  of  the 
Puritans,  at  their  cost,  so,  at  the  approach  of  the  white 
troops,  they  quickly  made  off  into  the  woods.  With 
joy  and  many  tokens  of  gratitude,  the  Sachem  of  the 
Wampanoags  welcomed  this  deliverance  and  showered 
presents  and  deerskins  upon  the  rescuing  white  men. 

The  friendship  of  this  famous  chieftain  was  further 
shown  the  English,  when — during  a  period  of  great 
religious  controversy — he  gave  a  welcome  shelter  to 
Roger  Williams,  a  young  Welsh,  dissenting  minister, 
who  was  forced  to  leave  the  Puritan  Colonists,  because 
of  differences  with  them  in  respect  to  their  religious 
beliefs.  Williams  had  come  to  Massachusetts  in  1631, 


100         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

and  had  settled  at  Salem,  where  a  struggling  band  of 
Puritans  had  started  a  settlement.  Here  he  soon  came 
into  disfavor  because  he  considered  that  the  strict  laws 
regulating  the  doctrine  and  worship  of  the  Puritans 
were  too  narrow,  and  openly  preached  against  the  teach 
ings  of  those  who  guided  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the 
Colonists.  Several  times  he  was  told  to  appear  before 
the  magistrates,  and  at  last  the  general  court,  or  legis 
lature  of  the  colony  of  Massachusetts,  pronounced  the 
sentence  of  exile  upon  him,  because  he  had  taught 
doctrines  which  "subverted  the  fundamental  state  and 
government."  It  was  determined  to  dispatch  him  to 
the  mother  country  upon  a  ship  which  was  soon  to  leave 
for  England,  but  someone  told  the  bold  minister  of  this, 
so  he  escaped  from  his  house  in  Salem,  in  January,  1636, 
and,  after  wandering  half  starved  and  half  chilled  for 
fourteen  weeks  in  the  dense  forest,  he  finally  reached 
Plymouth.  Here — with  a  few  friends — he  determined 
to  make  a  settlement  and  begin  his  life  afresh.  But 
now  Governor  Winthrop  of  Massachusetts  wrote  to  him 
— because  he  believed  him  to  have  been  badly  treated 
by  the  Colonists — and  advised  him  to  make  a  home 
somewhere  on  Narragansett  Bay,  and  beyond  the  terri 
tory  claimed  by  the  other  Colonists — advice  which 
Williams  had  the  good  sense  to  adopt.  So  with  five 
companions,  in  June,  1636,  he  paddled  into  the  Seekonk, 
or  Blackstone  River,  in  a  canoe,  and  landed  at  the  head 
of  Narragansett  Bay,  where  he  founded  the  city  of 
Providence — so  called  because  of  his  belief  that  he  had 
found  it  only  by  divine  guidance. 
This  land  had  been  given  to  him  by  Massasoit,  with 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM      101 

whom  he  had  found  a  refuge  at  Mount  Hope  during 
his  wanderings  in  the  wilderness,  and  who  had  fed  and 
housed  him  during  the  black  storms  of  winter.  The 
old  chief  had  showed  him  every  care  and  attention, 
and  had  the  greatest  friendship  for  this  noble-hearted 
man  of  God,  who  had  not  only  written  an  essay  upon 
the  rights  of  the  Indians  to  the  American  soil,  which 
had  made  him  many  enemies  among  the  Colonists  (be 
cause  they  considered  it  an  attack  upon  the  King  of 
England),  but  who  had  a  real  regard  for  the  savages. 
It  is  said  that  love  begets  love,  and  so  it  would  seem 
with  Roger  Williams  and  the  Wampanoags.  The 
Colony  of  Providence  prospered;  each  year  brought  it 
additional  settlers;  and,  protected  from  the  attacks 
of  savages  by  their  friendship  and  high  regard,  the 
little  town  soon  grew  in  strength  and  prominence. 

Perhaps  the  pleasantest  picture  that  we  have  of  this 
friendly  Chief  of  the  Wampanoags  is  that  presented 
by  the  first  Thanksgiving  ceremony  held  by  the  Puritan 
fathers,  in  the  autumn  of  1621.  After  grave  and 
serious  struggles  with  starvation  and  disease,  the  time 
came  when  the  white  settlers  had  an  abundance,  not  only 
for  the  present  need,  but  also  for  the  future.  Their 
corn  crop  had  been  ample,  pumpkins  and  fat  squashes 
ripened  upon  their  vines,  and  a  quantity  of  codfish 
had  been  caught  and  dried  upon  the  beach.  With 
houses  now  tight  plastered  against  the  blasts  of  the  ele 
ments,  and  with  a  stout  palisade  to  repel  the  attacks 
of  any  savages  who  might  take  the  warpath  against 
them,  they  waited  for  the  cold  snows  of  winter  with 
none  of  the  dread  which  had  before  consumed  their 


102        FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

spirits.  So  they  prepared  a  great  feast  of  Thanksgiving, 
and  to  it  invited  Massasoit — their  friend  and  ally — 
who,  in  deerskin  and  feathers,  came  with  several  of  his 
tribe  to  the  festival  of  rejoicing.  With  grunts  of  con 
tentment  the  Wampanoags  feasted  upon  the  supplies 
of  the  Puritans,  who,  laying  aside  their  arms  and  armor, 
mingled  with  the  red  men  upon  terms  of  the  greatest 
freedom  and  still  further  cemented  the  bonds  of  peace 
and  good- will  which  already  existed  between  them. 

Later  on,  the  kindly  disposed  chieftain  apparently 
associated  his  eldest  son  with  him  in  the  government  of 
his  small  tribes,  for  together  they  came  to  Plymouth 
and  requested  that  the  Puritan  fathers  allow  the  ancient 
treaty  between  them  to  remain  as  it  originally  had  been 
drawn  up  by  the  head  men  of  the  two  races.  So,  too, 
their  names  are  often  found  together  upon  deeds  of 
conveyance  of  land  to  the  English.  In  1649,  Massasoit 
had  apparently  less  need  of  his  possessions  than  he  did 
of  money,  for  he  sold  the  territory  of  Bridgewater  to  the 
Plymouth  Colonists,  and  took  in  payment  seven  coats 
and  a  half  of  a  coat,  nine  hatchets,  eight  hoes,  twenty 
knives,  four  moose  skins,  and  ten  yards  of  cotton— a 
small  recompense  indeed  for  such  a  large  amount  of 
territory  disposed  of,  and  one  which  must  have  been 
quickly  used  up.  But  he  was  a  mere  savage  whose 
wants  were  few,  and,  with  no  regard  for  the  future,  or 
realization  of  the  tremendous  numbers  of  whites  who 
were  soon  to  invade  the  land  about  him,  he  doubtless 
believed  that  his  people  would  have  land  and  country 
enough  to  last  them  forever.  In  1653,  another  deed  was 
made  out  by  him,  conveying  a  part  of  the  territory  of 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT   SACHEM      103 

Swansey  to  English  grantees,  and,  as  another  record — in 
which  his  name  appears — is  in  1661,  it  is  apparent  that 
he  was  alive  as  late  as  this  and  still  disposing  of  his  an 
cestral  holdings.  But  this  is  the  last  trace  of  the  great 
chief  which  has  been  left  to  posterity,  so  it  is  evident 
that  the  kind-hearted  and  peaceable  Massasoit — the  true 
friend  of  the  Puritans — died  about  this  time.  He  must 
have  been  at  least  eighty  years  of  age,  and  was  beloved, 
respected  and  admired  by  both  his  own  people  and  those 
who  would  have  been  his  bitterest  foes  had  he  shown 
himself  to  be  possessed  of  the  same  vindictive  cruelty 
and  hatred  as  other  Indian  chiefs. 

The  fact  that  this  eminent  red  man  was  beloved  as 
well  as  respected  by  his  subjects  and  Indian  neighbors, 
far  and  wide,  is  well  shown  by  the  fact  that  a  great  con 
course  of  anxious  friends  flocked  about  him  during  the 
illness  from  which  he  was  restored  by  good  Winslow. 
"Some,"  says  this  Englishman,  "came  from  more  than 
one  hundred  miles  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  the  great 
Massasoit  before  his  death,  and  they  all  watched  him  with 
as  much  anxiety  as  if  he  had  been  their  blood  relation. 
That  morning  when  he  had  partly  recovered,  he  told  me 
to  spend  my  time  in  going  from  one  to  another,  in  the 
town  of  Sowams,  requesting  me  to  treat  them  as  I  had 
him,  and  to  give  to  each  of  them  some  of  the  same 
medicine  that  I  had  given  to  him,  for  they  were  good 
folks."  It  is  only  too  apparent,  then,  that  he  won  the 
regard  of  his  own  race  by  his  kindness,  for  even  though 
he  himself  was  near  death,  his  first  thought,  upon  his 
recovery,  was  for  those  about  him  who  were  ill  and  in 
distress. 


104         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

His  wealth  and  residence  were  no  better  than  the 
meanest  of  his  tribe ;  it  is  known  that,  with  the  exception 
of  an  ornament  of  bones  around  his  neck,  he  was  no  more 
luxuriously  dressed  than  the  poorest  of  his  subjects,  yet 
the  dignity  and  energy  of  his  character  was  such  that 
he  controlled  their  wild  passions  and  hatred  for  the 
whites,  because  of  their  personal  confidence  and  affection 
in  him.  The  authority  of  Chief  Sachem  was  the  free 
gift  of  the  Indians  and  could  have  been  taken  away  at 
any  moment  from  him  by  the  general  vote  of  the  people 
whom  he  ruled,  but,  never,  during  his  long  life,  was 
such  an  act  contemplated  or  apparently  desired.  As  he 
must  have  been  nearly  eighty  years  of  age  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  his  rule  of  the  barbarous  and  savage  tribes 
was  an  extremely  long  one,  and  such  was  his  influence 
for  peace,  that,  during  his  life,  there  was  scarcely  an 
instance  of  an  individual  broil  or  quarrel  with  the 
English.  Some  of  the  Pokanokets — the  Sachem  Corbe- 
tant,  in  particular — were  extremely  hostile  to  the  Puri 
tans,  even  contemplating  an  attack  upon  Plymouth,  and, 
although  this  warrior  openly  defied  them,  and  fought 
them,  upon  one  occasion,  he  was  subsequently  over 
come  with  remorse  and  solicited  the  good  offices  of 
Massasoit  to  reconcile  him  with  the  English.  Such 
was  the  great  Sachem's  influence  over  all  the  Massa 
chusetts  Chieftains  that  nine  of  them  went  to  Plymouth, 
at  his  request,  and'  made  overtures  of  peace  to  the 
English,  telling  them  that  they  recognized  their  posses 
sion  to  the  land,  and  their  authority  to  the  perpetual 
holding  of  it. 

Massasoit,   the   Good,    was   not   distinguished  as  a 


MASSASOIT:  GREAT  SACHEM      105 

warrior,  and  he  is  not  known  to  have  ever  been  engaged 
in  any  open  hostilities  with  the  unfriendly  tribes  about 
him.  It  is,  therefore,  surprising  that  he  could  have 
held  the  respect  of  the  people,  whose  chief  regard  is  for 
those  who  excel  in  warfare.  For  forty-five  years  he  was 
at  peace  with  the  whites,  and  thus  kept  his  tribe  from 
the  fate  which  befell  every  Indian  tribe  in  New  England, 
which  warred  with  the  men  of  another  race — they  suc 
cumbed  to  the  superior  ability  of  the  men  with  muskets 
and  ball.  All  the  native  nations  of  New  England  save 
his  were,  for  many  years,  involved  in  dissensions  and 
wars,  not  only  with  the  whites,  but  among  themselves, 
and  the  Pequots,  the  savages  of  Maine,  the  Narragan- 
setts  and  the  Mohegans  continually  fought  and  reduced 
their  strength  as  if  their  only  desire  was  to  exterminate 
the  Indian  race  and  prepare  ample  room  for  the  whites. 
"  I  know  that  the  English  love  me — I  love  them — I  shall 
never  forget  them,"  said  the  great  Wampanoag  to 
Winslow,  after  his  first  recovery  from  the  severe  sickness 
from  which  that  amiable  Englishman  effected  a  cure, 
and  thus,  beloved  by  his  own  people  and  by  those  who 
would  have  been  bitter  enemies,  had  they  been  treated 
differently,  the  spirit  of  this  kindly  savage  hovers  over 
the  dim  pages  of  early  Massachusetts  history,  as  a  bright 
and  lustrous  spark  amid  the  gloomy  reminiscences  of 
this  unfortunate  period  of  bloodshed,  suffering,  and 
race  enmity. 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET 

ONE  day  old  Massasoit  came  to  the  settlement  at 
Plymouth  bringing  with  him  two  brown  and 
sturdy  Indian  youths,  and,  taking  them  tc  the 
Governor's  house,  he  said,  with  a  great  show  of  good 
will: 

"  These  are  my  two  sons.  You  English  make  fine 
names.  Better  names  than  Indian  make.  Ugh!  Ugh! 
You  give  white  name  to  my  children." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  say,"  replied  the  obliging  Governor, 
as  he  gazed  with  much  admiration  at  the  two  little 
Wampanoags.  "I  shall  call  one  Alexander,  after 
Alexander  the  Great,  and  the  other  Philip,  after  the  other 
Grecian  conqueror  who  bore  that  name  in  ancient 
history." 

"Ugh!  Ugh!  It  is  well!"  said  Massasoit,  and,  after 
smoking  a  pipe  of  peace  with  his  friend,  the  English 
man,  he  returned  to  his  quiet  life  at  Mount  Hope. 

Alexander — the  elder  of  the  two  sons — ruled  over  the 
destinies  of  his  race  after  the  peaceful  death  of  his  father, 
but,  as  he  grew  in  strength  and  intelligence,  he  saw  the 
white  men  increasing  in  the  land  of  his  ancestors,  like 
locusts  in  the  hot  summer.  Ship  after  ship  came  over 
from  England  bringing  cargoes  of  supplies  and  eager 
men,  anxious  to  obtain  a  foothold  in  the  new  country 
and  build  a  home  in  the  wilderness.  Plymouth  became 

106 


KING    PHILIP,   OR   METACOM^T. 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    107 

a  good-sized  settlement,  Boston  a  flourishing  port, 
Salem  a  trading  place  from  which  ships  sailed  as  far  as 
the  West  Indies;  while  at  Deerfield,  Northampton, 
and  Hadley — far  in  the  interior  of  Massachusetts — 
clusters  of  log  cabins  and  clapboarded  houses  dotted 
the  clearings. 

The  white  men  became  more  and  more  eager  to 
possess  the  land  of  the  Indians;  more  greedy  for  farms; 
more  harsh  to  the  lazy,  dreamy  savages  who  cared  not 
for  houses,  for  cattle,  or  for  the  luxuries  of  the  whites; 
but  preferred  their  own  simple  life,  the  pleasures  of  hunt 
ing  and  fishing,  and  their  smoky,  drafty  wigwams. 
They  were  always  at  leisure,  all  of  their  surroundings 
had  been  free  to  them  before  the  advent  of  the  Puritans, 
their  wants  were  few,  and  were  easily  supplied.  Now, 
clearings  and  farms  began  to  spoil  the  once  trackless 
forests;  where  once  they  could  roam  at  will,  now  those 
of  another  race  had  sown  their  corn  and  forbade  them 
to  hunt  and  fish  in  the  streams  near  by.  The  silent 
woods  echoed  with  the  axe  and  saw  of  the  toiling, 
energetic  men  from  a  far  distant  land,  and  the  Indian 
began  to  reflect  upon  the  future  when  all  of  his  hunting 
grounds  would  vanish  and  he  would  have  to  move 
farther  inland,  among  the  warlike  Mohawks,  if  he 
wished  to  live  amidst  the  silence  of  the  wilderness. 

Wetamoo,  a  wealthy  Indian  Princess,  became  the 
bride  of  Alexander,  and  as  she  had  many  followers  and 
much  wampum,  the  oldest  son  of  Massasoit  became  a 
man  of  as  much  prominence  as  his  father  had  been 
before  him.  His  wealth  made  him  arrogant,  and  stories 
came  to  the  ears  of  the  settlers  at  Plymouth  that  he  was 


108         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

plotting,  with  the  Narragansetts,  to  openly  revolt  against 
them  and  begin  a  war  with  those  with  whom  his  father 
had  been  so  friendly.  Whether  these  stories  were  true, 
or  not,  it  is  difficult  to  say;  at  any  rate  the  Puritans 
believed  them,  and  so  summoned  him  to  attend  the  court 
at  Plymouth  and  clear  himself  of  suspicion.  He  re 
fused  to  pay  any  attention  to  these  commands.  Major 
Winslow  was.  therefore,  ordered  to  go  to  Mount  Hope 
and  arrest  him  with  the  aid  of  ten  well-armed  soldiers 
who  were  to  add  to  their  number  as  they  proceeded 
through  the  settlements  which  lay  between.  He  had 
gone  but  a  short  way  when  he  came  upon  the  Wam- 
panoag  chief  in  a  hunting-lodge.  Within  were  eight 
or  ten  warriors,  all  armed;  but  the  whites  secured 
their  guns,  and  entering  the  house,  clapped  a  pistol 
to  the  breast  of  Alexander,  telling  him  that  if  he  stirred 
or  refused  to  go,  he  was  a  dead  man. 

The  proud  Sachem  was  outraged  at  this  treatment 
and  violently  upbraided  the  Colonel  who  had  taken  him ; 
declaring  with  passion  that  the  Governor  had  no  right 
to  believe  the  idle  rumors  which  came  to  his  ears  from 
lying  savages,  and  that  he  would  not  stir.  But  the  cold 
steel  of  the  pistol  at  his  chest  was  reflected  in  the  eye  of 
the  soldier  who  held  it.  The  Indian  had  no  choice,  and, 
when  his  first  anger  had  subsided,  he  went  along  moodily 
and  in  great  dejection,  with  his  attendants  following  in 
the  rear.  A  kind  soldier  offered  him  a  horse,  but  he  said 
that  he  could  walk  as  well  as  any  squaw,  and  so  proceeded 
to  Marshfield,  where  the  night  was  spent.  In  the 
morning  a  high  fever  raged  in  his  veins.  He  was 
violently  ill — so  ill  that  it  was  thought  best  not  to  move 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    109 

him  by  the  physicians  of  the  town,  but  when  he  plead 
that  he  be  allowed  to  go  home,  stern  Winslow  con 
sented.  He  was  released,  on  giving  his  parole  to  return 
when  next  summoned,  and  so,  borne  on  a  litter  by  his 
faithful  men,  he  left  his  captors  for  his  own  abode. 
His  retainers  had  not  carried  him  far  before  he  died, 
amidst  the  lamentations  of  those  about  him  and  the 
wailings  of  his  squaw  Wetamoo,  who  declared  that  the 
English  had  poisoned  her  brave  husband. 

Thus  Philip,  or  Metacomet — the  second  son  of  Massa- 
soit — came  to  be  chief  of  the  Wampanoags.  He  was 
about  twenty-three  years  of  age,  tall,  strong,  handsome, 
and  with  a  spirit  as  proud  and  haughty  as  that  of  his 
departed  brother,  who  was  so  sensitive  that  he  had 
perished  as  a  result  of  his  own  injured  dignity.  Had 
the  English  been  kind  and  conciliatory  to  the  new 
Wampanoag  chieftain,  they  might  have  gained  his 
friendship  instead  of  his  ill  will,  but  the  continual 
nagging  which  they  subjected  him  to  increased  his 
resentment  against  them  and  nurtured  in  him  a  sullen 
distrust  of  all  white  men  and  those  connected  with  them. 
One  of  the  new  chief's  earliest  measures  was  to  come  to 
Plymouth  and  appear  before  the  court,  thus  following 
the  example  of  his  father  and  his  brother,  for  he  pledged 
himself  to  use  every  effort  to  continue  the  peace  which 
had  always  existed  between  the  Colonists  and  those  of 
his  own  race.  For  several  years  after  this,  the  inter 
course  between  the  settlers  and  Indians  went  on  as  be 
fore,  but  deep  in  the  hearts  of  both  the  red  men  and 
whites  was  a  growing  suspicion  and  distrust,  which 
finally  came  to  a  point  in  1671,  when  Philip  openly 


110         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

made  complaint  of  the  encroachment  of  the  English 
upon  his  hunting-grounds. 

Rumors  came  thick  and  fast  to  the  men  of  Plymouth 
that  the  savages  were  contemplating  war,  that  they 
were  oiling  their  guns,  wliich  they  had  purchased  from 
the  traders,  and  were  sharpening  their  hatchets.  The 
Plymouth  Government  was  alarmed.  "The  Indians 
are  impertinent  in  their  bearings  towards  all  English 
men,"  wrote  a  prominent  settler  to  the  Governor,  and 
so  that  officer  of  the  crown  sent  word  to  Philip  that  he 
wished  to  see  him  and  hold  a  conference  with  him  at 
Taunt  on.  At  first  the  proud  chief  refused  to  come  to 
meet  the  English,  but  he  apparently  changed  his  in 
tentions,  for  on  April  10th,  1671,  a  message  was  received 
from  him,  inviting  the  officers  of  the  Plymouth  Govern 
ment  to  meet  him  in  a  "pow-wow,"  but  demanding 
that  two  hostages  should  be  sent  him  as  a  guarantee  of 
his  own  safety.  When  these  were  received,  he  came 
to  Taunton  with  many  followers,  and,  seeing  military 
preparations  among  the  English  in  the  town,  took  up 
a  position  upon  the  outskirts,  near  a  mill,  and  refused 
to  move  from  this  ground  until  three  commissioners  sent 
from  Massachusetts  came  out  to  meet  him,  and  per 
suaded  the  now  unfriendly  chief  that  no  harm  would 
be  done  him  if  he  came  to  greet  the  Governor.  So,  with 
glances  of  suspicion  and  distrust,  the  Indians  entered 
the  church  where  was  the  Governor,  surrounded  by 
soldiers  in  slouch  hats  with  broad  brims,  long  swords, 
iron  breastplates  and  unwieldy  guns.  The  followers 
of  King  Philip  were  naked  to  the  waist,  had  their  faces 
and  bodies  painted  in  many  colors,  and  were,  for  the 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    111 

most  part,  armed  with  long  bows  and  with  quivers  full 
of  arrows,  although  a  few  who  knew  how  to  use  them 
had  guns  in  their  hands. 

"I  charge  you  with  warlike  designs  against  us,"  said 
Governor  Prince.  "Many  have  told  me  that  you  and 
yours  prepare  for  open  hostility  against  the  English." 

In  the  dark  eyes  of  Philip  gleamed  the  fire  of  intense 
anger,  as  he  replied: 

"It  is  an  untruth.  I  have  sharpened  my  hatchets 
and  arrows  because  I  feared  an  attack  by  the  Narra- 
gansetts,  who  are  unfriendly  to  me  and  mine."  As 
he  spoke,  the  looks  of  defiance  which  his  warriors  cast 
at  the  English  showed  that  if  the  soldiers  should  dare  to 
lay  a  hand  upon  their  chieftain,  there  would  be  certain 
bloodshed. 

A  long  talk  was  now  held,  and,  in  the  end,  the  defiant 
Sachem  agreed  to  renew  the  old  peace  covenant  between 
himself  and  the  English,  and  to  surrender  all  firearms  into 
their  hands  as  long  as  there  was  any  suspicion  of  war 
upon  their  part.  But  he  had  no  intentions  of  doing 
this  and  of  thus  placing  himself  at  the  mercy  of  the 
English,  nor  could  he  have  forced  his  warriors  to  do  so 
had  he  so  wished,  for  the  Indians  had  come  into  posses 
sion  of  large  numbers  of  muskets  which  they  used  for 
killing  game,  and  which  they  considered  as  much  a 
necessity  as  their  own  clothes.  Thus,  although  the  con 
ference  ended  in  peace,  the  English  soon  took  measures 
to  enforce  the  compliance  with  its  terms  and  so  awak 
ened  intense  hatred  and  anger  in  the  hearts  of  King 
Philip's  men.  The  guns  of  the  Assowomsett  and 
Middleboro  Indians  were  seized  by  force;  the  Saconet 


112         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

braves  were  threatened  with  war  if  they  refused  to  de 
liver  up  their  firearms,  and,  as  in  September  only  seventy 
guns  had  been  handed  in  to  the  Plymouth  authorities, 
they  again  summoned  proud  Philip  to  appear  before 
them  and  to  give  the  reason  why  his  men  did  not  live  up 
to  their  agreement.  He  did  not  appear  before  them  un 
til  he  was  fully  prepared  to  answer  the  accusations. 

The  charges  against  the  Wampanoag  Sachem  were 
that  he  had  neglected  to  bring  in  his  arms;  that  he  had 
refused  to  come  to  the  English  court  when  sent  for; 
that  he  had  harbored  bad  Indians;  had  been  insolent 
to  the  Massachusetts  magistrates,  and  had  misrepre 
sented  matters  to  them.  To  these  accusations  he  re 
plied  that  he  was  as  much  a  subject  of  the  King  of 
England  as  were  the  Plymouth  Colonists  themselves, 
which  was  true;  that  as  he  was  a  subject  of  the  King  he 
was  not  obliged  to  run  at  the  beck  and  call  of  the  Colo 
nists,  for  they  were  only  subjects  as  he  himself  was;  and 
that  he  was  unable  to  make  his  men  give  up  their  guns 
as  they  needed  them  for  supplying  themselves  with 
deer  meat  and  wild  turkeys.  His  arguments  were  good, 
but  he  could  not  convince  the  hard-fisted  magistrates 
of  the  righteousness  of  his  cause. 

"You  must  sign  a  new  treaty  with  us,"  said  stern 
Governor  Prince.  "And  you  must  agree  to  pay  tribute 
of  one  thousand  English  dollars  every  year  in  fur  and 
peltries.  Also  bring  us  five  wolves'  heads  a  year  and  do 
not  engage  in  war  with  other  tribes,  or  sell  your  lands 
to  others,  without  consulting  first  the  Plymouth  Council. 
As  for  delivering  the  guns  to  us,  this  you  need  not  do, 
as  you  say  that  your  warriors  need  them  for  obtaining 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    113 

game  in  order  to  live  by,  but,  if  you  further  insult  our 
white  ambassadors  you  must  expect  to  smart  for  it." 

"How!  How!"  muttered  King  Philip,  as  he  with 
drew.  "Ugh!  You  English  want  everything  your 
way,  but  it  shall  be  as  you  say." 

So,  turning  his  face  towards  Mount  Hope,  he  had 
soon  disappeared  into  the  forest  and  only  the  sighing  of 
the  wind  in  the  pine  branches  came  to  the  ears  of  the 
relentless  counsellors,  who,  sure  of  their  strength  and 
resources,  had  begun  to  use  force  upon  the  weaker  and 
less  energetic  race.  They  watched  his  retreating  form 
with  frowns  of  determination  upon  their  brows. 

For  three  years  peace  reigned  in  the  forest.  The 
Narragansetts,  Wampanoags,  and  Nipmucks  resigned 
themselves  to  the  inevitable  domination  of  the  Eng 
lish,  but  hunters  and  trappers  told  of  the  sullen  manner 
of  the  independent  Indians  and  of  the  lack  of  stockades 
at  the  far  distant  towns  of  the  interior.  The  great  body 
of  Colonists  went  upon  their  way  in  fancied  peace  and 
security,  tilled  the  soil,  cut  down  the  trees  of  the  forests, 
and  broke  new  roads  through  the  wilderness  with  no 
thought  of  danger.  So  low  was  the  interest  in  the 
Provincial  militia  that  no  elections  for  military  officers 
were  held  by  the  people  and  their  officers  were  appointed 
by  the  general  court.  But  suddenly  an  episode  oc 
curred  which  woke  the  slumbering  spirit  of  war  and 
again  fired  the  angry  passions  of  both  red  men  and  white. 
This  was  a  murder. 

There  had  been  living  among  the  Wampanoags  at 
Nemasket,  an  Indian  converted  to  Christianity  by  John 
Eliot,  a  Puritan  missionary.  This  savage  was  named 


114         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Sassamon,  a  cunning  and  plausible  fellow,  who  accom 
panied  King  Philip  to  the  last  conference  with  the 
Governor,  as  an  interpreter.  He  was  close  to  Philip, 
was  in  his  confidence,  and  hearing  him  speak  often  of  a 
desire  to  go  to  war  against  the  English,  he  one  day 
journeyed  to  Plymouth,  and  told  the  people  there  to 
be  on  their  guard,  for  the  Wampanoag  chief  was  de 
termined  to  massacre  them  if  he  had  a  favorable  op 
portunity.  This  alarming  news  was  not  believed  by 
Governor  Prince,  "for,"  said  he,  "all  Indians  are,  by 
nature,  untruthful  and  wish  to  make  you  fear  them." 
So  the  Puritans  paid  little  heed  to  this  information, 
especially  as  Philip,  himself,  soon  came  to  the  settle 
ment,  declaring  that  he  wished  for  peace;  that  he  had 
heard  of  Sassamon's  talk;  and  that  he  wanted  to  tell 
them  that  such  sayings  were  untruthful  and  absurd. 

Today  a  few  survivors  of  the  Nemasket  tribe  of 
Indians  live  upon  the  edge  of  Assowomset  Pond,  four 
miles  south  of  the  village  of  Middleborough,  Massa 
chusetts,  and  on  the  surface  of  this  quiet  sheet  of  water 
was  found  floating  the  body  of  Sassamon,  in  the  spring 
of  the  year.  Bruises  upon  his  body  aroused  the  sus 
picions  of  the  whites,  who  came  to  the  belief  that  he  had 
been  killed  during  the  winter  and  his  remains  thrown 
beneath  the  surface  of  the  pond,  in  revenge  for  his 
treacherous  talk.  Three  Indians  were  arrested  on  sus 
picion,  but  they  claimed  that  Sassamon  had  been 
drowned  while  fishing  and  that  the  marks  upon  his  body 
were  caused  by  contact  with  the  ice.  In  spite  of  this,  they 
were  called  before  a  jury  of  whites  and  Indians,  and, 
upon  the  evidence  of  an  Indian  who  claimed  that  he 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    115 

was  an  eye  witness  of  the  affair,  were  sentenced  to  be 
hung.  The  last  red  man  to  swing  for  the  crime  confessed 
that  the  other  Wampanoags  had  really  murdered  the 
red  man  and  that  he  had  been  a  looker-on,  but  not  a 
participator  in  the  deed.  In  spite  of  thus  turning 
" States  Evidence"  he  was  first  reprieved  and  then 
executed,  and,  although  there  was  no  actual  proof  of 
King  Philip's  connection  with  this  terrible  affair,  it  was 
evident  that  he  had  decreed  that  Sassamon  should  die 
as  a  fit  punishment  for  his  tale-bearing  to  the  English 
settlement. 

The  execution  of  the  three  Indians  aroused  the  angry 
passions  of  the  Wampanoags  to  fever  heat  and  they 
soon  began  to  annoy  the  white  settlers  who  had  the 
misfortune  to  live  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mount  Hope. 
The  peaceful  folk  at  Plymouth  now  had  rumors  of  ravage 
and  excesses  of  all  kinds.  Houses  were  robbed  while 
the  men  were  in  the  fields  at  work ;  cattle  were  shot  when 
they  were  beyond  the  hearing  of  the  farmers'  wives; 
corn  was  stolen;  outbuildings  were  set  on  fire  in  the 
night,  and  sheep  were  mysteriously  slaughtered.  A 
Christian  Indian  came,  one  day,  to  Governor  Prince, 
and  said:  " Strange  warriors  swarm  to  King  Philip's 
village.  His  women  and  children  are  being  sent  to  the 
Narragansetts.  He  and  his  men  are  thick  as  flies,  and 
they  are  armed  and  ready  for  a  long  war."  Alarm  and 
terror  spread  among  the  far-distant  settlements,  and 
some  persons  of  imaginative  minds  saw  comets  in  the 
form  of  blazing  arrows  shoot  across  the  skies,  while  the 
thunder  of  hoofs  of  invisible  horsemen,  and  the  whistle 
of  unseen  bullets,  were  heard  upon  the  still  air  as  the 


116         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

peace-loving  villagers  walked  to  and  from  their  meeting 
houses.  "  To  arms !  To  arms ! "  was  the  cry,  as  the  rumors 
of  the  Indian  uprising  grew  more  and  more  frequent, 
and  the  stern-faced  Puritans  oiled  their  Cromwellian 
muskets,  cleaned  out  the  fuse  pans,  and  set  their  wives 
busily  to  work  moulding  leaden  bullets.  War — cruel, 
savage,  relentless  war,  was  soon  to  burst  upon  the  white 
settlers  of  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  and  Connecti 
cut. 

And,  as  we  look  upon  the  events  which  led  up  to  this 
conflict,  we  see  that  King  Philip  and  his  men  had  good 
reason  to  make  one  desperate  attempt  to  rid  the  coun 
try  of  the  superior  race  of  whites.  "What  can  we  do 
against  you  English?"  Philip  had  said  in  a  conference 
at  Bristol  Neck.  "If  we  surrender  our  arms  to  you, 
you  do  not  deliver  them  back  to  us  without  charging 
us  a  fine;  you  take  our  land  away  from  us  and  pay  us 
practically  nothing.  You  cheat  us  whenever  we  have 
dealings  with  you.  As  we  have  no  fences  around  our 
cornfields,  your  horses  and  cattle  trample  out  our  food. 
You  sell  our  men  liquor,  get  them  drunk,  and  then,  when 
they  hurt  the  sober  Indians  and  your  cattle,  you  fine 
us  so  heavily  that  we  must  needs  sell  our  land  to  pay 
it.  When  you  English  first  came  to  our  country,  my 
father  Massasoit  was  a  great  man,  and  you  white  men 
were  weak  and  poor.  He  gave  you  more  land  than  I  now 
possess.  Yet  you  seized  upon  my  brother  Alexander, 
forced  him  to  come  to  you  with  a  loaded  pistol,  and  killed 
him  by  your  cruel  treatment.  You  will  not  believe  the 
testimony  of  our  brothers  in  your  court,  and  every 
lying  white  man's  tale  against  us  is  credited." 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    117 

These  accusations  were  all  true;  the  English  had 
crowded  the  men  of  a  different  race  and  manner  of 
living  back  into  the  interior,  and,  desiring  their  land, 
had  cheated,  browbeaten  and  robbed  them  of  their 
possessions  with  a  supreme  contempt  for  their  feelings. 
To  compete  with  the  Puritans,  the  Wampanoags  had  to 
adopt  their  ways,  but  they  were  content  with  their  own 
manner  of  living;  were  satisfied  with  their  wigwams 
and  primitive  method  of  tilling  the  soil,  and  did  not 
want  the  care  or  trouble  of  tending  to  flocks  of  sheep 
and  herds  of  cattle,  which  made  the  white  man  rich  and 
prosperous.  It  was  the  stronger  race  against  the 
weaker,  and,  as  has  always  happened,  the  Indians  had 
to  give  way  to  those  of  greater  intelligence  and  thrift. 

Philip  was  driven  to  bay  and  forced  into  a  fight  by  the 
passions  which  he  was  unable  to  control,  yet  he  must 
have  known  that  he  could  not  win.  The  Narragansetts 
had  not  joined  him.  The  surrounding  tribes  gave  him 
little  assurance  that  they  would  fight  with  him  to  the 
bitter  end,  and,  although  tradition  has  it  that  the  In 
dians  had  seven  or  eight  thousand  fighting  men,  it  is 
probable  that  their  actual  numbers  were  about  three 
thousand  five  hundred.  No  general  conspiracy  had  been 
organized,  and,  although  many  individual  Indians  were 
sure  to  join  with  Philip's  warriors,  he  could  count  upon 
no  assistance  save  that  of  his  own  followers.  So  the 
hostilities  began  with  the  odds  decidedly  against  the 
native  Americans. 

The  little  village  of  Swansea,  Massachusetts,  was  not 
far  from  the  Wampanoag  capital  of  Mount  Hope,  and 
here  on  Sunday,  June  the  20th,  1675,  a  war  party  of 


118         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

eight  Indians  crept  stealthily  into  the  quiet  street  as 
the  settlers  were  at  church.  They  entered  a  house,  up 
turned  tables,  chairs,  and  bedsteads;  stuck  arrows 
through  the  pictures,  and  then  killed  some  peaceful 
cows  grazing  on  the  village  common.  But  an  old  man 
and  his  son  were  at  home,  and,  as  they  saw  the  thieving 
savages  issuing  from  a  neighbor's  house,  the  father 
seized  his  musket  and  told  his  boy  to  "shoot  a  robbing 
varmint."  Putting  the  gun  to  his  shoulder  the  young 
man  fired  from  a  window,  dropped  a  savage  with  the 
first  bullet,  and  turned  around  smiling,  when  the  Indian 
crawled  to  his  feet  and  made  off.  Later  in  the  day  some 
friendly  Indians  came  to  the  village  and  asked  why  the 
brave  had  been  shot.  "Because  he  was  a  robber/*  re 
plied  the  old  man.  "Is  he  dead?"  "Yea,"  was  the 
answer.  "That  is  good,"  shouted  the  boy  who  had 
pulled  the  trigger,  and,  from  the  looks  of  hate  upon  the 
faces  of  the  visitors,  it  could  be  seen  that  they  were 
maddened  by  the  young  man's  idle  words. 

Messengers  were  sent  in  haste  to  Plymouth,  troops 
were  ordered  to  march  to  Taunton,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  the  next  Sunday  was  appointed  as  a  solemn  one 
for  prayer  and  the  chanting  of  psalms,  with  the  request 
that  war  be  turned  aside.  But  these  supplications  to 
heaven  were  to  be  of  no  avail,  for,  as  the  settlers  of 
Swansea  returned  from  their  meeting  house  upon  the 
next  Lord's  day,  suddenly  the  wild  war-whoops  of  the 
savages  and  crack  of  rifles  was  heard  from  the  depths  of 
the  woods,  on  either  side  of  the  path.  One  Puritan  soon 
lay  dead  upon  the  ground,  another  was  badly  wounded 
through  the  body,  and  two  young  men  who  were  running 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    119 

back  to  the  village  for  a  large  gun,  were  found  dying  in 
the  road,  as  the  fleeing  settlers  came  slowly  towards 
their  homes,  with  faces  towards  the  lurking  foe  and 
their  few  muskets  speaking  loudly  in  answer  to  the  wild 
whoops  of  the  painted  braves.  Barricading  themselves 
hi  the  strongest  farmhouses,  they  fought  a  desultory 
battle  all  through  the  day,  but  next  morn  six  persons 
were  found  dead  in  an  outlying  log  house,  which  was 
farther  from  the  protection  of  the  village.  Their  heads 
were  scalped  and  their  bodies  had  been  brutally  dis 
figured. 

There  were  forty  thousand  English  in  New  England, 
and,  at  the  first  news  of  this  tragedy,  men  donned  their 
armor,  seized  their  guns,  and  soon  were  marching  in 
numbers  towards  the  scene  of  hostilities.  The  Praying 
Indians — those  converted  by  the  English  missionaries — 
refused  to  join  with  King  Philip's  men  and  either  did  not 
fight  at  all,  or  marched  with  the  whites.  The  Pequots 
and  Mohegans  of  Connecticut  would  not  take  the  field 
against  the  Colonists,  for  the  war  had  broken  out  a  year 
before  King  Philip  had  intended  it  to,  and  he  had  not 
had  time  to  persuade  these  to  become  his  allies.  He, 
himself,  is  said  to  have  wept,  as  the  tidings  of  these  first 
outrages  of  the  war  were  brought  him,  for,  savage  as 
he  was,  he  no  doubt  relented  at  the  idea  of  disturbing 
the  long  peace  which  his  father — the  good  Massasoit — 
had  preserved  with  the  Puritans.  But  the  die  was  cast; 
from  now  on  there  was  to  be  no  rest  for  the  Indian 
Sachem;  and,  although  he  must  have  known  that,  in  the 
end,  he  would  surely  be  defeated,  he  plunged  into  the 
campaign  with  a  brave  resolution  to  conquer  the  op- 


120         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

pressors  of  his  people.  His  own  following  consisted 
of  six  hundred  warriors,  eager  and  ready  for  the  fray. 
The  Narragansetts  were  willing  to  assist,  the  Nipmucks 
and  the  Indians  residing  upon  the  Connecticut  River 
were  prepared  for  a  long  war,  and  all  the  Indians  upon 
the  coast  of  Maine,  fully  two  hundred  miles  away, 
were  soon  engaged  in  the  common  cause  of  the  race— 
the  extermination  of  the  whites.  Tradition  has  it  that 
between  seven  and  eight  thousand  fighting  men  were 
enrolled  in  the  war  under  the  leadership  of  Philip,  but, 
in  reality,  there  were  probably  about  thirty-five  hundred. 

On  June  20th,  a  panting  messenger  came  into  Plymouth 
upon  a  blown  and  winded  horse. 

"Arm!  Arm!"  he  cried  to  the  settlers.  "The  house 
of  John  Winslow  at  Swansea  has  been  plundered  by  the 
Indians  and  many  houses  have  been  burned  while  the 
people  had  been  at  church.  War  is  begun  and  we  must 
defend  ourselves  to  the  last  ditch." 

A  stalwart  Captain — a  carpenter  by  trade,  and  Church 
by  name — was  one  of  the  first  to  bear  the  dreadful 
news. 

"To  arms!"  he  shouted,  as  he  ran  to  the  house  where 
muskets  and  balls  were  kept.  "We'll  soon  show  King 
Philip's  men  that  the  Puritans  can  fight  as  well  as  they 
can  hoe  corn."  And,  before  two  houses  were  passed, 
twenty  horsemen  galloped  down  the  main  street  in  the 
direction  of  Taunton;  their  swords  gleaming  in  the 
bright  sun,  and  their  breastplates  flashing  like  the 
saucepans  in  the  kitchens  of  the  good  housewives. 

Church  was  a  stout  soldier  and  as  ready  with  his 
broadsword,  as  he  was  with  his  hammer  and  saw.  His 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    121 

spirit  was  burning  for  a  fight,  and,  joined  next  day  by 
numbers  of  friendly  Indians  and  troops,  under  Major 
Cudworth  and  Bradford,  he  pressed  on  to  Swansea, 
meeting  people  fleeing  from  their  homes,  wringing  their 
hands,  and  bewailing  the  losses  of  their  houses  and  their 
herds.  A  part  of  his  force  was  sent  to  escort  a  guide 
called  Brown  to  his  home  at  Wanamoiset,  on  June  23rd, 
and,  meeting  a  part  of  the  garrison  going  out  to  bring 
in  corn  from  some  deserted  houses,  they  told  the  drivers 
not  to  go  on  as  Indians  were  near.  "We  do  not  fear 
them,"  said  the  foragers,  "for  we  could  handle  King 
Philip's  whole  army/7  and  thus  boasting  and  laughing, 
they  proceeded  onward.  But  scarcely  had  they  gone 
more  than  two  miles,  when  loud  war-cries  sounded  from 
either  side  of  the  forests,  accompanied  by  the  sharp 
crack  of  rifles,  and,  to  their  dismay,  they  found  them 
selves  in  an  ambuscade.  "Turn,  men,  back  to  the 
town,"  shouted  the  head  of  the  force,  but,  although 
they  quickly  retreated,  six  of  their  number  were  shot 
and  fell  into  the  roadway,  where  the  skulking  braves 
soon  made  short  work  of  them.  In  the  following  week 
this  settlement,  for  which  they  gathered  provisions, 
was  abandoned  to  its  fate,  and  the  inhabitants  sought 
refuge  in  Rhode  Island. 

Meanwhile  two  hundred  and  fifty  fighting  men  of 
Boston  had  joined  the  intrepid  Church  at  Swansea, 
where  there  was  skirmishing  with  lurking  Indians  in 
the  brush,  but  no  battle  with  any  great  numbers  of 
King  Philip's  men.  "On,  on,  to  Mount  Hope!"  was 
the  slogan  of  the  eager  Puritans,  as,  with  over  five 
hundred  warriors,  the  angry  settlers  crossed  over  the 


122         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

bridge  at  Swansea,  and,  with  horsemen  upon  the  flanks 
to  prevent  an  ambuscade,  pushed  on  towards  the  home 
of  King  Philip.  They  passed  by  groups  of  empty  wig 
wams,  the  smoking  ruins  of  the  homes  of  settlers,  Bibles 
torn  to  pieces  and  thrown  into  the  roads  in  defiance  of 
their  Christian  teachings;  while  the  heads  of  men  and 
women  stuck  on  stakes  bore  full  witness  of  the  fury  of 
the  savages.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents  as  they  pressed 
forward  to  the  Indian  town,  but,  when  they  rushed  ex 
ultantly  amid  the  homes  of  the  Wampanoags,  not  a 
savage  was  to  be  seen,  and  a  heavy  trail  towards  the 
shore  showed  that  all  had  escaped  to  the  inland  country. 
Disgusted,  but  not  disheartened,  the  white  men  camped 
for  the  night  in  the  drenching  mist  and  rain,  and,  leaving 
a  force  to  build  a  fort,  after  a  few  days  of  fruitless  search 
for  the  savages,  the  soldiers  retired  to  Swansea  and 
Rehoboth. 

Philip  had  been  too  clever  to  be  caught  at  his  own 
home,  which  was  without  strong  defenses,  and  had 
crossed  the  mouth  of  the  Taunton  River  to  the  Pocasset 
swampland,  where  he  and  his  men  had  hidden  them 
selves.  He  was  too  wise  to  engage  in  open  battle  with 
the  English,  his  tactics  being  those  of  defense  and  quick 
forage,  rather  than  that  of  meeting  the  whites  upon  even 
terms.  Furthermore,  he  hoped  to  prolong  the  war  un 
til  he  could  get  other  western  tribes  to  join  with  him 
and  thus  eventually  drive  the  English  into  the  sea. 
Should  he  have  some  great  victory,  he  expected  to  gain 
the  assistance  of  the  powerful  Mohawks  of  New  York 
State,  and  with  these  to  aid  him  in  battle,  the  Colonists 
would  have  little  chance  for  success.  So — sullenly  and 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    123 

craftily — he  lay  in  the  dense  undergrowth,  waiting  for 
the  English  to  find  him  in  his  lair,  while  he  dispatched 
numerous  messengers  to  the  surrounding  tribes,  asking 
for  the  aid  in  this  desperate  war. 

And  he  did  not  have  long  to  wait  for  the  enemy,  as 
Captains  Church  and  Fuller  were  soon  upon  his  trail, 
with  thirty-six  men  who  were  burning  for  a  shot  at  the 
despoilers  of  their  homesteads.  They  crossed  the  river 
and  penetrated  the  dense  Pocasset  swamp,  where  sud 
denly  a  few  of  their  number  in  advance  ran  into  a 
small  body  of  the  savages.  These  fled,  without  offering 
to  fight,  and  so  the  rest  pushed  forward  upon  the  track 
which  the  great  body  of  Indians  had  left  as  they  had 
retreated  into  a  dense  pine  swamp.  But,  suddenly, 
the  sharp  rattle  of  a  snake  sounded  from  the  under 
growth.  Another  and  still  another  was  heard,  and, 
more  terrified  by  this  enemy  than  by  the  savages, 
Church  turned  to  his  men  to  say: 

"  Back,  boys !  These  serpents  are  worse  than  the  Black 
Serpents  whom  we  search  for.  We  must  out  of  this  and 
look  for  the  cunning  varmints  by  a  different  route." 

So  they  retreated  from  the  wood,  passed  down  the  shore 
towards  a  neck  of  land  called  Punkatee,  and  soon  came 
upon  fresh  Indian  signs  and  a  wigwam  full  of  plunder. 
This  made  them  push  on  much  faster,  and  suddenly  they 
were  overjoyed  to  see  two  of  the  enemy  in  a  field  of 
ripening  peas.  Church  and  his  men  immediately  fell 
flat  upon  their  faces,  hoping  to  surprise  the  two  savages, 
but  the  eyes  of  the  braves  were  keen.  They  saw  the 
glint  upon  the  steel  breastplates  of  the  English,  and  so 
took  to  their  heels.  A  fence  lay  in  their  path,  and  as 


124         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

they  climbed  it,  one  turned  around  to  discharge  his  gun. 
As  he  did  so,  a  Puritan  hit  him  with  a  bullet,  so  that  he 
dropped  into  the  thicket  upon  the  other  side,  with  a 
great  yell  of  rage  and  pain.  The  English  rushed  for 
ward,  hoping  to  capture  him,  but,  like  a  cat  with  nine 
lives,  he  wriggled  away  in  the  thick  underbrush  and 
disappeared. 

The  Puritans  pressed  forward,  but  the  sharp  ping! 
ping !  from  fifty  Indian  rifles  spoke  from  the  silent  forest, 
which  warned  them  that  they  were  surrounded.  Blood 
curdling  yells  of  defiance  sounded  in  hideous  unison  as 
they  advanced,  and,  perceiving  that  they  were  in  an 
ambush,  Captain  Church  cried  out:  " Retreat!  Re 
treat  to  the  fence,  lie  down  behind  it,  and  stand  off  these 
yelping  wolves."  The  soldiers  obeyed,  and,  as  they 
reached  this  friendly  shelter,  the  hill  in  front  of  them 
was  fairly  black  with  the  swarming  warriors  of  King 
Philip,  whose  bright  guns  glittered  in  the  sun.  As  they 
spread  out  to  surround  the  small  band  of  Puritans,  the 
rattle  of  bullets  in  the  grass  warned  the  gallant  Church 
that  he  must  retreat,  or  else  all  would  be  lost. 

Giving  the  order  to  fall  back  to  the  beach,  the  intrepid 
Captain  soon  had  his  men  near  the  water's  edge,  where 
they  protected  themselves  behind  fallen  boulders  and 
stripped  off  their  coats,  so  as  to  let  their  friends  see  them 
from  the  opposite  shore.  The  soldiers  were  so  hungry 
that  they  stopped  to  gather  some  raw  peas  upon  the 
way,  being  peppered  by  the  Indian  bullets  as  they  did 
so,  and  losing  one  of  their  number.  At  last  they  all 
tumbled  down  behind  an  old  hedge  where  Captain 
Church  lay,  and  remained  quiet  under  a  withering 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    125 

fire  from  the  Indians,  who  took  possession  of  the  ruins  of 
an  old  stone  house  that  overlooked  them,  and  endeavored 
to  pick  off  as  many  as  they  could.  A  hot  fight  went  on. 
Things  began  to  look  black  for  the  small  band  of  Puri 
tans,  who  were  now  outnumbered  ten  to  one,  and  whose 
powder  and  ball  began  to  grow  very  scarce. 

In  this  situation,  a  sail  boat  approached  from  the  op 
posite  shore,  with  a  canoe  trailing  at  the  stern,  but  the 
Indians  kept  up  such  a  warm  fusillade  at  her  that  they 
made  her  keep  some  distance  away.  "  Send  your  canov^ 
ashore,"  shouted  the  men,  "and  take  us  off,  for  our 
ammunition  is  near  gone  and  we  will  be  overpowered." 

But  the  fellows  upon  the  boat  were  afraid  to  venture 
nearer  and  kept  a  safe  distance  away. 

"If  you  don't  send  your  canoe  ashore,"  roared  Church, 
"I  will  fire  upon  you  myself.  Come — paddle  in  so  that 
some  of  my  men  can  get  away." 

The  angry  tones  of  the  Captain  apparently  made  the 
master  of  the  boat  lose  all  desire  to  aid  the  band  of  fight 
ers,  and  away  he  sailed,  leaving  the  men  to  shift  for  them 
selves.  The  Indians,  seeing  the  boat  go  away,  fired 
thicker  and  faster  than  ever,  so  that  a  few  of  the  Puritans, 
who  were  good  runners,  began  to  talk  of  escaping  by 
flight.  But  the  courageous  Captain  Church  exhorted 
them  to  keep  up  a  bold  front,  to  save  their  ammunition 
until  they  saw  the  head  of  an  enemy,  and  to  be  of  good 
cheer,  because  he  was  certain  that  help  would  soon  be  at 
hand.  Thus  he  kept  up  the  spirits  of  his  followers 
until,  just  at  nightfall,  a  sloop  was  seen  approaching. 

Cheer  after  cheer  came  from  the  throats  of  the  tired 
men,  as  a  canoe  touched  upon  the  bank,  and,  two  at  a 


126         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

time,  they  were  paddled  off  to  the  ship.  Church  was 
the  last  to  come  off,  for  he  had  left  his  cutlass  near  an 
old  well  in  front  of  the  Indians,  and  he  refused  to  go 
until  he  had  found  it.  As  he  climbed  aboard  the  sloop, 
he  took  one  parting  shot  at  the  savages  with  his  last  bit 
of  powder,  which  was  only  sufficient  to  send  the  bullet 
half  way  to  the  shore.  Two  balls  from  King  Philip's 
men  struck  the  canoe  as  he  went  aboard,  one  grazed 
the  hair  of  his  head,  and  another  partly  penetrated  a 
stout,  leather  girdle  right  in  the  middle  of  his  breast, 
which  was  fortunately  of  sufficient  thickness  to  turn 
the  leaden  missile  aside.  Thus  ended  the  first  actual 
skirmish  of  the  war. 

Philip  was  now  safe  in  the  swamp,  so  the  pursuit  of 
his  wary  men  was  left  to  some  Massachusetts  troops  who 
were  back  from  the  Narragansett  County,  where  theyhad 
gone  to  secure  the  friendship  of  the  Narragansett  war 
riors.  Church's  men — the  soldiers  from  Plymouth — were 
hurriedly  dispatched  to  the  town  of  Dartmouth,  where 
the  savages  had  burned  most  of  the  houses,  had  stolen 
cattle,  sheep,  and  horses,  and  had  murdered  a  number  of 
the  inhabitants.  Here  some  two  hundred  Wampanoags 
came  in  and  gave  themselves  up  to  the  troops,  upon  the 
strength  of  promises  made  by  the  Captain  of  the  garrison 
that  they  would  receive  kind  treatment  and  would  not 
be  harmed.  But,  in  spite  of  this,  the  town  council 
voted  that,  inasmuch  as  several  of  these  savages  had 
been  actors  in  the  late  uprising  against  the  whites,  and, 
as  the  rest  had  been  compliers  in  the  insurrection,  that 
they  should  be  sold  into  slavery  for  the  good  of  the 
country.  The  soldiers  loudly  protested  against  this 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    127 

decision,  but  sold  they  were,  and  shipped  to  Cadiz, 
Spain,  under  one  Captain  Sprague,  who  treated  them  in 
a  rough  and  brutal  manner.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  the 
rest  of  the  Indians  continued  the  war  and  refused  to  end 
it,  to  give  any  quarter  to  the  whites,  or  to  sign  any  truce, 
until  their  last  resource  had  been  exhausted? 

Meanwhile  the  Massachusetts  forces  had  surrounded 
the  Pocasset  cedar  swamp  where  Philip  hid  with  Weta- 
moo  (his  dead  brother's  wife)  and  her  men,  who  had 
fastened  bushes  about  themselves,  so  that  they  could 
steal  about  undetected  among  the  leaves  and  shoot 
down  their  pursuers.  Some  of  the  Puritan  troops 
pushed  into  the  undergrowth  in  a  courageous  attempt 
to  be  the  first  to  capture  the  wily  chief,  but  they  were 
ambuscaded,  shot  at  by  an  unseen  enemy,  and  eight 
were  killed.  This  proved  that  discretion  was  the  better 
part  of  valor,  and  so  the  troops  decided  to  starve  out 
King  Philip,  as  the  point  of  land  on  which  the  swamp 
lay  was  surrounded  upon  all  sides  but  one  by  water. 
So  sure,  indeed,  were  the  whites  of  effecting  the  capture 
of  all  the  Indians  that  a  part  of  the  troops  returned  to 
Boston,  leaving  but  one  hundred  men  behind  them  to 
finish  the  work  and  end  the  war  with  one  blow.  But 
they  little  guaged  the  ability  of  King  Philip  as  a  cam 
paigner,  for  he  had  rather  different  ideas  of  fighting  than 
his  opponents.  Quietly  getting  together  enough  drift 
wood  to  make  a  stout  raft,  he  launched  it  upon  the  shore 
(not  watched  by  the  Puritans),  paddled  across  to  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  and  departed  for  the  country  of 
the  friendly  Nipmucks,  leaving  his  women  and  sick  to 
be  captured  by  the  Massachusetts  troops. 


128         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

At  daybreak,  he  and  his  men  were  seen  by  various 
farmers  as  they  passed  through  the  open  country  which 
lay  between  them  and  the  land  of  the  Nipmucks.  At 
Rehoboth,  the  settlers,  reinforced  by  some  fifty  Mo- 
hegan  warriors,  attacked  him  without  serious  loss  to  the 
whites,  although  thirty  of  King  Philip's  men  were  soon 
weltering  in  their  own  blood.  The  Wampanoag  Chief 
was  fighting  for  his  life,  and  he  fought  well,  urging  on 
his  hardy  braves  by  word  and  gesture,  and  animating 
them  to  deeds  of  daring  by  exposing  himself  freely  upon 
the  firing  line.  The  whites  and  friendly  Indians  were  un 
able  to  capture  his  devoted  band  and  soon  they  were  lost 
in  the  thick  forest,  into  the  gloomy  depths  of  which  the 
attackers  dared  not  follow. 

In  a  short  time  Philip  was  among  the  friendly  Nip- 
mucks,  uncaught,  unawed  by  the  show  of  English  force, 
and  bent  upon  forcing  the  fighting  to  the  extent  of 
his  ability.  About  a  fortnight  before  his  escape  from 
Pocasset  swamp,  as  the  good  minister  in  the  First 
Parish  Church  in  Boston  was  delivering  his  sermon,  a 
courier  rushed  into  the  building,  with  the  startling  in 
formation  that  the  little  town  of  Mendon  had  been  at 
tacked,  and  that  about  six  of  the  inhabitants  had  been 
slain.  The  congregation  left  the  place  of  worship  in  the 
greatest  alarm,  for  they  now  saw  that  all  the  Indians  in 
Massachusetts  had  risen  against  them,  and  that,  if  a 
treaty  of  peace  were  not  soon  effected,  a  large  army 
would  have  to  be  sent  against  the  savages.  So  a  Captain 
Hutchinson,  escorted  by  a  Captain  Wheeler,  with 
twenty  horsemen,  was  sent  towards  the  Indian  settle 
ment,  with  directions  to  patch  up  a  peace.  The  mes- 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    129 

senger,  travelling  in  advance,  requested  the  Indians  to 
meet  the  English  at  a  certain  spot,  and  this  the  Indians 
agreed  to  do,  but  when  Hutchinson  and  his  men  arrived 
there,  not  a  red  warrior  was  to  be  seen. 

The  good  Hutchinson  was  well  known  in  these  parts, 
as  he  had  a  large  farm  near  by,  where  he  employed  many 
of  the  Indians  in  the  fields,  and  so,  hardly  thinking  that 
they  could  be  attacked,  the  men  went  carelessly  through 
the  forest,  whistling,  laughing  and  singing  songs  of 
gayety  and  mirth.  But  suddenly  a  shot  sounded  from 
the  gloomy  depths  of  the  wood;  another  and  another 
followed;  while  blood-curdling  yells  showed  that  the 
Indians  were  near  by,  and  had  ambuscaded  the  un 
thinking  white  troops.  They  were  thrown  into  terrible 
confusion.  After  a  short  stand  they  retreated  as  fast 
as  possible,  taking  aim  at  the  unseen  enemy  from  the 
tree  stumps  and  fallen  timber,  but,  as  the  little  band 
emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  eight  of  their 
number  fell  dead  and  a  dozen  were  wounded.  Wheeler 
was  shot  clean  through  the  body  and  his  horse  was 
killed  underneath  him,  while  brave  Hutchinson  was  so 
badly  injured  that  he  died  shortly  afterwards.  Thus, 
defeated  and  dismayed,  the  troops  retreated  to  Brook- 
field,  under  the  guidance  of  two  friendly  Praying  Indians, 
who  knew  every  inch  of  the  country,  and,  under  their 
direction,  they  took  a  bypath  which  led  them  in  the 
rear  of  a  large  force  of  redskins  who  had  closed  in  on 
their  rear,  during  the  skirmish  in  the  forest,  thus  hoping 
to  annihilate  them.  When  the  disorganized  band  reached 
the  town  (a  settlement  of  twenty  houses)  they  took 
refuge  in  the  Inn,  the  strongest  house  in  the  place  and 


130         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

there  they  were  immediately  joined  by  all  the  inhabit 
ants. 

Two  messengers  were  now  dispatched  on  horseback  to 
hasten  to  the  nearest  settlements  for  aid,  but,  as  they 
reached  the  edge  of  the  town  clearing,  shots  rang  out 
from  the  underbrush,  yells  of  defiance  told  them  that  the 
Nipmucks  were  advancing,  and  so  they  returned,  at 
full  speed,  to  join  their  friends.  That  evening,  one  of 
these  was  peering  out  of  a  garret  window,  when  a  bullet 
from  the  watchful  enemy  struck  him  in  the  forehead  and 
caused  instant  death,  thus  warning  the  defenders  of  the 
Inn  that  an  attempt  to  escape  would  be  fruitless,  and 
that  they  must  now  fight  to  the  last  ditch.  There  were 
twenty-six  fighting  Puritans  in  the  fortified  dwelling, 
the  women  and  children  were  in  one  room ;  the  wounded 
in  another.  Outside,  the  Indians  kept  up  a  continual 
yelling  and  shouting  as  they  poured  volley  after  volley 
of  shot,  which  came  against  the  walls  like  hail.  They 
set  fire  to  the  deserted  dwellings  of  the  town  and  the 
crackling  flames  and  black  smoke  warned  the  inhabitants 
of  Brookfield  that  their  homes  would  be  no  longer 
standing  at  the  end  of  this  unequal  battle.  The  fate 
that  was  to  befall  them  was  evident,  for  one  rash  man, 
venturing  out  of  the  Inn  to  run  to  his  father's  house  not 
far  away,  was  caught  by  the  cruel  redskins,  his  head  was 
cut  off  and,  after  kicking  it  about  like  a  football,  it  was 
placed  upon  a  pole  and  set  up  in  full  view  of  the  sur 
rounded  Englishmen,  with  fierce  yells  and  cheers  of 
defiance  from  the  red  demons  who  had  killed  him. 

In  the  night  the  savages  roared  like  so  many  bulls, 
sang  weird  songs  of  war,  and  fired  against  the  walls  of 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    131 

the  Inn  until  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  they 
attempted  to  set  fire  to  the  house  by  means  of  hay  and 
other  combustibles  which  they  brought  to  one  corner 
and  touched  off  with  a  firebrand.  But  the  brave  white 
men  dashed  out  into  the  open  under  a  murderous  fire 
from  the  Indians,  which  wounded  only  two,  and  with 
great  exertion  put  out  the  blaze  before  the  Inn  itself 
had  ignited.  Meanwhile,  one  Ephraim  Curtis,  a  swift- 
footed  youth,  crawled  by  the  savages  in  the  early  gray 
of  the  morning,  and,  eluding  the  vigilance  of  the  senti 
nels,  made  all  haste  for  Maryborough,  the  nearest  settle 
ment.  His  comrades  grimly  sat  down  to  wait  for  what 
Providence  should  bring  them,  determined  that  they 
would  sell  their  lives  dear,  and,  if  they  were  to  die,  it 
would  not  be  until  after  they  had  sent  many  a  redskin 
to  the  next  world  before  them. 

Among  these  Nipmucks  were  several  renegade 
Praying  Indians,  and,  as  the  shot  continued  to  pour  in 
upon  the  garrison,  next  morning,  they  collected  in  great 
numbers  near  the  church — only  a  gunshot  away — and 
scoffed,  blasphemed  and  joined  in  a  hideous  attempt  to 
sing  a  mocking  hymn.  The  garrison,  with  religious  anger, 
fired  upon  this  ribald  crew  with  vigor  and  soon  saw 
them  retreating  in  confusion,  carrying  several  dead  and 
wounded  with  them.  All  during  the  afternoon  fresh 
hordes  of  warriors  came  in  to  join  the  foe,  while  the  yell 
ing  braves  redoubled  their  efforts  to  burn  the  Inn.  Ar 
rows,  tipped  with  burning  rags  dipped  in  brimstone,  were 
shot  upon  the  roof,  while  the  men  within  cut  away  the 
shingles  under  them  and  put  out  the  blaze.  The  yelling 
braves  piled  hay  and  flax  against  the  walls,  for  a  second 


132         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

time,  which  they  set  on  fire,  as  they  crowded  around 
the  door  in  order  to  shoot  down  anyone  who  came 
out  or  force  an  entrance  should  anyone  open  it.  A  ball 
of  fire  was  shot  into  the  garret  which  fell  in  a  great  mass 
of  tow,  but  was  fortunately  extinguished  immediately 
by  one  of  the  soldiers,  and  in  these  fearful  straits  the 
garrison  broke  down  the  house  wall  and  put  out  the 
flames  from  the  inside. 

"Merciful  Providence,  what  shall  we  do?"  shouted  a 
stout  Puritan  at  this  moment.  "  Our  water  has  given  out !" 

"I  will  get  more,"  cried  one  Thomas  Wilson,  running 
into  the  yard,  but  he  was  shot  in  the  upper  jaw  and  in  the 
neck  so  painfully  that  he  cried  out  in  his  anguish ;  where 
upon  the  Indians  set  up  a  great  shout  of  triumph,  think 
ing  they  had  killed  him.  Fortunately  his  wound  was 
not  serious  and  he  recovered  in  a  short  time;  but  he 
got  no  water,  and  thus  the  beleagured  men  and  women 
were  in  desperate  straits  indeed.  The  Indians  had 
barricaded  the  end  of  the  meetinghouse  and  the  barn 
belonging  to  the  garrison,  with  boards  and  hay,  and  so, 
protected  from  the  bullets  of  the  settlers,  they  fought 
at  close  quarters  and  kept  up  an  incessant  fire.  But, 
seeing  that  their  only  hope  for  success  was  in  burning 
the  house,  they  now  brought  up  a  cart  which  was  made 
from  a  barrel  and  piled  with  hemp,  flax,  hay  and  other 
inflammable  materials,  and  set  it  on  fire,  as  they  rolled 
it  towards  the  mansion.  Nothing,  it  seemed,  could  now 
save  the  Colonists,  for  the  poles  on  the  cart  were  of  such 
a  length  that  the  whites  could  not  hit  the  Indians  who 
pushed  it.  At  this  awful  moment,  Heaven  came  to 
the  aid  of  the  courageous  English.  A  heavy  thunder 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    133 

shower  suddenly  fell,  and,  as  the  burning  cart  was 
extinguished  by  the  raindrops,  the  Indians  set  up  a  wail 
of  disappointment,  as  they  heard  the  cheers  from  the 
interior  of  the  Inn. 

Two  days  and  a  night  had  now  elapsed  since  the 
messenger  to  the  settlements  had  passed  through  the 
lines  of  hostile  Indians,  and,  whether  he  had  reached  the 
friends  of  the  settlers  or  not,  was  unknown  to  the  now 
wornout  defenders  of  the  last  house  in  Brookfield.  They 
gloomily  fired  at  the  savages  as  they  cautiously  showed 
themselves,  and,  as  the  darkness  of  another  night  began 
to  fall,  you  can  well  imagine  their  feelings  of  excitement, 
when,  above  the  howlings  of  the  Nipmucks,  was  heard 
the  tramp  of  a  column  of  horse.  The  Indians  began  to 
withdraw — they  suddenly  disappeared  altogether — and, 
to  the  joy  of  all,  a  gray-haired  Puritan  sit  the  head  of 
some  forty-six  stout  Massachusetts  yeomen  rode  into 
the  streets  of  the  town  and  rescued  the  half-starved 
garrison.  Cheer  after  cheer  rent  the  air,  as  the  danger 
was  known  to  be  past.  By  the  lurid  light  of  some 
burning  barns,  the  Nipmucks  retreated  into  the  black 
ness,  firing  desultory  and  random  shots  at  the  reinforce 
ments  as  they  did  so.  The  garrison  was  saved.  Women 
sobbed  aloud;  strong  men  wept  like  babies;  and  tears 
of  cheerfulness  were  intermingled  with  those  of  sorrow  for 
the  brave  fellows  who  had  fallen  in  the  fray.  Brookfield 
was  soon  abandoned  by  all,  and  the  cattle  of  the  once 
prosperous  settlers  grazed  among  the  ruined  walls  and 
charred  timbers  of  the  homes  of  their  masters.  King 
Philip's  men  had  well  begun  their  awful  work  upon  the 
people  of  New  England. 


134         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

And  this  dread  destruction  continued,  for  the  settlers 
were  few,  their  homes  were  without  stockades,  and  they 
were  thoroughly  unprepared  for  making  a  decent  re 
sistance  against  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the 
Indians.  The  Nipmucks,  with  King  Philip  as  di 
rector  of  affairs,  had  moved  westward  towards  the  town 
of  Hadley,  where  was  a  large  Indian  encampment  of 
supposedly  friendly  red  men.  "We  will  go  out  and 
fight  Philip,"  they  told  the  English.  "We  are  your 
friends,  not  his."  But  the  friendly  Mohegan  warriors 
gathered  about  the  Puritan  leaders.  "Do  not  believe 
them,"  said  they,  "for  they  will  give  the  enemy  warning, 
when  on  the  warpath,  by  shouting.  Do  not  believe 
them."  So,  it  was  ordered  that  these  warriors  should 
come  to  the  English  troops  and  give  up  their  arms,  in 
token  of  their  friendship.  But  the  Indians  left  their 
village  in  a  body  (it  was  a  group  of  wigwams  with  a 
stockade  about  it)  and  fled.  The  English  pursued,  next 
day,  and  overtook  them  in  a  swamp  ten  miles  distant, 
where  they  attacked  with  vigor,  firing  from  behind  trees 
and  boulders  in  true  frontier  fashion.  The  fight  was 
sharp  and  bloody.  It  lasted  for  three  hours,  and  in  the 
end,  the  savages  made  good  their  retreat,  leaving  twenty- 
six  warriors  upon  the  field,  while  nine  of  the  English 
men  died  in  the  arms  of  their  comrades,  who  were  unable 
to  capture  a  single  red  man. 

Not  far  off  was  the  little  settlement  of  Deerfield,  with 
about  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  sturdy  settlers  living 
there.  Three  of  the  houses  had  palisades  about  them, 
but  the  rest  were  thoroughly  unprotected.  Philip's 
emissary  had  stirred  up  all  the  Indians  hereabouts,  and 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    135 

men  went  to  meeting  with  their  arms  over  their  shoul 
ders;  ammunition  was  stored  in  the  meetinghouse  and 
each  man  furnished  himself  with  at  least  five  charges  of 
powder  and  shot.  In  spite  of  this,  the  Indians  found 
them  thoroughly  unprepared,  when,  a  week  later,  they 
fell  upon  the  little  settlement,  and,  although  the  settlers 
rallied  together  in  the  centre  of  the  village,  the  redskins 
soon  set  fire  to  all  the  houses  and  barns  beyond  range 
of  the  white  men's  trusty  flintlocks.  Not  daring  to 
leave  the  protection  of  their  palisades,  they  saw  the 
labor  of  long  years  of  patient  toil  go  up  in  smoke,  while 
their  sheep,  oxen,  and  cows  were  driven  off  by  their 
enemies.  A  few  days  later,  Squakeog,  a  town  fifteen 
miles  distant,  met  the  same  fate,  while  some  nine  or  ten 
settlers,  who  did  not  reach  the  garrison  house  soon 
enough,  were  easily  slain  by  the  crafty  Indian  braves. 
The  red  hand  of  war  lay  heavy  upon  the  Massachusetts 
frontier. 

It  was  now  September,  and  the  soft  haze  of  Indian 
summer  drowsily  hung  over  the  once  peaceful  hills  and 
valleys  of  Massachusetts,  making  it  so  strange  to  believe 
in  war,  that  even  the  followers  of  King  Philip  found  it 
impossible  to  fight.  But  the  stern  commands  of  the 
last  of  the  Wampanoags  was  for  more  slaughter,  and,  a 
month  after  the  burning  of  Brookfield — when  most  of 
the  garrison  was  absent  from  Hadley — the  savages  fell 
upon  it  with  sudden  and  unexpected  fury.  It  was  fast- 
day,  and  the  people  were  in  the  meetinghouse,  when 
a  wild  war-whoop  sounded  from  the  forest,  the  loud 
report  of  a  musket  followed,  and,  as  the  startled  congre 
gation  rushed  into  the  street,  a  band  of  howling  red  men 


136         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

poured  into  the  village  with  yells  of  savage  hatred  and 
defiance.  Seizing  their  ever-present  flintlocks,  the 
men  of  Hadley  backed  away  to  the  garrison  house, 
forming  a  screen  for  the  women  and  children  behind 
them,  but  it  was  impossible  to  reach  it,  as  they  were 
cut  off  by  the  swarms  of  Indians.  They  retreated  to 
another  building  (incapable  of  being  defended  from  the 
inside)  and  here  held  off  the  exultant  braves.  It  was  a 
desperate  situation,  for  should  they  go  down  before  the 
onslaught,  no  quarter  would  be  given  to  their  loved 
ones  and  the  Puritans  knew  that  they  must  win  in  order 
to  keep  all  that  was  dearest  to  them  in  life.  Their 
hands  trembled  as  they  fired  at  the  whooping  warriors, 
now  crouching  behind  fence  posts  and  buildings,  and 
pouring  a  steady  fire  into  the  brave  defenders  of  Hadley, 
who,  unnerved  by  the  sight  of  their  helpless  families, 
fought  grimly  and  desperately  as  the  savages  pressed 
ever  nearer  in  front.  The  Puritans  wavered;  their  line 
fell  back  and  the  fate  of  Hadley  hung  upon  the  trembling 
balance  of  a  moment. 

Suddenly,  a  loud  cry  sounded  from  the  interior  of  the 
house,  and  an  aged  man  of  soldierly  bearing  and  com 
manding  presence,  rushed  into  the  open  with  sword 
in  hand.  "On,  Englishmen,  on!"  he  shouted,  "back 
with  this  yelling  vermin!  Back!  Drive  them  into  the 
forest!" 

There  was  a  quick  response  from  the  stout  Puritans, 
who  were  not  lacking  in  courage,  but  who  needed  leader 
ship.  They  rose  to  their  feet.  They  rushed  forward 
upon  the  yelling  foe.  In  the  place  of  despair,  now 
energy  and  hope  stirred  their  hearts,  and  as  the  calm 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    137 

old  man  walked  among  them  with  words  of  cheer,  they 
pressed  upon  the  attackers  with  a  new  vigor.  The 
Indians  fell  back  with  dismay,  and,  as  numbers  of  their 
foremost  scouts  were  knocked  to  the  ground — pierced 
by  the  well-directed  shots  of  the  English — suddenly  they 
fled  into  the  woods,  pursued  by  the  impetuous  defenders 
of  Hadley  on  the  dead  run.  When  the  sound  of  the  re 
treat  had  died  away,  the  men  gathered  together  in  the 
village  to  thank  their  aged  leader.  He  was  not  there. 
From  whence  he  had  come,  no  one  knew,  and  none  had 
seen  him  disappear.  The  man  was  a  mystery. 

Such  is  the  story  of  the  fierce  fighting  at  Hadley  and 
of  the  strange  appearance  of  the  ancient  knight,  whose 
presence  turned  the  tide  of  conflict  at  a  time  when 
victory  was  most  needed.  It  would  be  pleasant  to  be 
lieve  that  this  were  some  friendly  spirit  come  to  aid  the 
Puritans — some  ghostly  retainer  from  the  dim  ages  of 
the  past — but  such  cannot  be  the  case.  Eventually,  it 
was  known  that  one  Colonel  Goffe — a  fugitive  from 
England — was  concealed  in  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Russell  at 
Hadley,  and,  as  he  was  an  old  soldier  and  a  veteran  of 
the  war  in  England,  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  remain 
quiet  when  he  saw  the  doughty  villagers  getting  the 
worst  of  the  battle  with  the  Indians.  It  was  unknown 
to  the  people  that  he  was  among  them,  for  he  was  a 
regicide  (or  assassin  of  the  King  of  England)  and  had 
he  been  discovered,  it  would  have  been  necessary  for 
some  citizen  or  some  magistrate  to  have  returned  him 
to  the  mother  country.  Fortunate,  indeed,  had  it  been 
for  the  people  of  Hadley  that  a  fugitive  from  justice  had 
been  among  them. 


138         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

September  was  a  fatal  month  for  the  English.  On 
the  same  day  that  Hadley  was  attacked,  a  large  force  of 
King  Philip's  men  visited  Deerfield,  where  they  burned 
several  houses  and  barns,  and  killed  two  men.  At 
Northfield,  the  blockhouse  was  besieged,  all  the  dwelling 
houses  were  burned,  and  a  dozen  settlers  were  slaughtered 
by  the  savages,  while  a  Captain  Beers,  who  went  to  the 
relief  of  the  town  with  thirty  soldiers,  was  ambuscaded 
by  the  Indians  and  killed.  Only  ten  of  his  followers 
escaped.  Deerfield  was  again  attacked,  and  more 
houses  were  burned,  while  the  surrounding  country  was 
swept  bare  of  all  settlers,  farm  utensils,  and  cattle  be 
longing  to  the  whites.  The  frontiersmen  clustered  to 
gether  at  Deerfield  and  Hadley,  determined  to  sell  their 
lives  dear,  if  the  wTorst  came  to  the  worst,  and  eagerly 
awaited  an  opportunity  to  avenge  themselves  upon  their 
cruel  foe. 

When  the  farmers  fled  from  the  vicinity  of  Deerfield, 
they  left  a  quantity  of  unthreshed  grain,  and  so  a  com 
pany  of  eighty  picked  men — the  flower  of  Essex  County 
—under  the  command  of  Captain  Lathrop  of  Ipswich, 
was  sent  from  Hadley  to  complete  the  threshing  and  load 
the  grain  on  wagons.  This  they  did,  and  as  they  were 
returning  through  the  forest,  the  soldiers  halted  in  a 
grove  of  trees  near  a  brook,  where  the  men  broke  ranks 
and  loitered  to  and  fro  hi  the  shade,  off  their  guard,  and 
with  their  muskets  and  armor  upon  the  ground.  But 
alas!  the  crafty  Indians  had  been  all  night  upon  their 
trail,  waiting  for  just  such  an  opportunity,  and  sud 
denly  seven  hundred  painted  braves,  sheltered  by  the 
trees,  poured  a  withering  fire  of  balls  and  arrows  into  the 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    139 

unsuspecting  followers  of  Lathrop.  All  but  seven  of 
the  whites  were  killed,  the  rest  escaped  through  the 
dense  forest  to  bear  the  sad  tidings  to  their  friends, 
while  the  Indians  held  a  riotous  scalp  dance  over  the 
remains  of  their  victims.  Because  of  this  massacre, 
the  brook,  to  this  day,  is  called  Bloody  Brook. 

As  the  savages  sang  and  danced  hilariously,  a  Captain 
Mosely,  who  had  heard  the  firing  and  had  seen  the 
fugitives,  hurried  to  the  spot  with  several  followers. 
From  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  until  dusk,  he  held 
his  own  against  the  redskins,  when  one  hundred  whites 
and  sixty  friendly  Mohegan  Indians  arrived  to  assist 
him.*  The  victorious  savages  were  driven  off  with  great 
loss  and  were  pursued  for  some  distance,  while  only  one 
white  man  was  killed  and  eleven  were  wounded.  When 
Captain  Mosely  came  up  as  the  followers  of  King  Philip 
were  collecting  spoils  and  scalps,  he  took  off  his  wig  and 
stuffed  it  into  his  breeches  pocket  so  that  he  could  be 
in  good  fighting  trim,  and  thus  use  his  rifle  with  ease. 
This  act  was  seen  by  the  Indians,  and  one  cried  out: 

" Englishman  got  two  heads!  Me  cut  off  one,  he  got 
another  and  put  it  on!  Ugh!  Ugh!  I  no  like  to  fight 
man  with  two  heads."  And  in  consequence  of  this, 
several  of  the  braves  made  off  into  the  gloom  of  the 
forest,  believing  that  they  were  leagued  against  Old 
Nick. 

Philip,  himself,  was  not  active  in  these  skirmishes 
and  seems  to  have  directed  the  plan  of  operations  from 
his  own  wigwam  and  not  to  have  taken  a  very  prominent 
part  in  the  fighting.  Although  numerous  captives  were 
brought  to  him,  there  is  not  an  instance  of  his  having 


140         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

maltreated  a  single  white  person,  even  while  the  hard- 
fisted  Puritans  were  selling  his  own  people  into  European 
slavery,  or  torturing  and  hanging  them.  A  Mrs.  Ro\v- 
landson  was  captured  and  brought  to  his  camp  where 
he  not  only  invited  her  to  call  at  his  lodge,  but,  when 
she  did  so,  bade  her  sit  down  and  smoke  a  peace  pipe. 
When  next  he  met  her,  he  requested  her  to  make  a 
garment  for  his  child,  and  gave  her  a  shilling  for  it.  He 
afterwards  took  the  trouble  to  visit  her  in  order  to  tell 
her  that  "in  a  fortnight  she  should  be  her  own  mistress. " 
What  is  still  more  to  his  credit,  we  read  that  when  a 
certain  James  Brown  of  Swanzey  came  to  his  camp  with 
a  letter  just  before  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  and 
the  young  warriors  were  about  to  kill  him,  Philip  inter 
fered  and  stopped  these  wild  braves,  saying  that  his 
father  had  told  him  to  show  kindness  to  Mr.  Brown. 

On  the  breaking  of  the  war  the  King  of  the  Wampa- 
noags  gave  strict  orders  that  no  one  should  injure  any  of 
the  members  of  the  Leonard  family,  for  these  people  had 
been  very  kind  to  him  and  had  often  repaired  his  guns 
when  out  of  order.  Thus  the  settlement  of  Taunton— 
where  the  Leonards  resided — was  almost  entirely  un 
molested  during  the  war,  although  in  the  very  path  of 
the  struggling  armies.  Instances  such  as  this  show  King 
Philip  to  have  been  a  man  of  warm  impulses,  gener 
osity,  kindness,  and  forbearance — characteristics  which 
some  of  the  Puritan  leaders,  themselves,  were  lacking  in. 

The  war  had  been  disastrous  for  the  English,  and, 
stung  with  the  bitterness  of  defeat,  those  in  power  de 
termined  to  now  use  every  effort  to  cripple  the  allied 
tribes  under  the  leadership  of  Philip.  The  Narragansetts 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    141 

were  secret  allies  of  the  Wampanoag  Chief,  and,  as  they 
had  a  large  fort  in  South  Kingston,  R.  I.,  built  upon 
five  or  six  acres  of  dry  ground  and  encircled  by  a  swamp, 
it  was  determined  to  attack  and  burn  the  stronghold. 
Palisades  and  a  circle  of  felled  trees  surrounded  the 
citadel,  and  it  was  defended  by  numerous  warriors 
armed  with  flintlock  muskets,  which  they  had  either 
stolen,  or  bartered,  from  the  English.  Massachusetts 
furnished  five  hundred  and  twenty  soldiers  for  the  army 
of  conquest,  Plymouth  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine,  and 
Connecticut  three  hundred,  while  one  hundred  and  fifty 
friendly  Mohegan  Indians  went  along  as  guides  and 
scouts.  This  army  of  over  a  thousand  men  moved 
against  the  Narragansetts — under  the  leadership  of 
stout  Governor  Winslow  of  Plymouth — confident  of 
success,  and  singing  hymns  of  victory.  It  was  in  De 
cember — the  snow  lay  deep  upon  the  ground — but  it  did 
not  chill  the  ardent  spirits  of  the  Puritan  troops. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  soldiers  were  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  fort  and  ready  for  the  assault.  They 
lined  up  in  preparation  for  a  rush  upon  the  entrance, 
which  was  protected  by  a  high  blockhouse  and  had,  in 
front  of  it,  a  log  breastwork  about  five  feet  high,  but, 
as  luck  would  have  it,  a  long  log  of  considerable  thick 
ness  jutted  out  through  the  palisade,  and,  with  a  rush,  the 
Massachusetts  men  ran  over  the  frozen  swamp,  leaped 
upon  the  fallen  tree  trunk  and  pushed  towards  the 
entrance.  A  withering  fire  from  the  Narragansetts  threw 
them  into  confusion,  and,  in  order  to  save  themselves 
from  slaughter,  the  brave  soldiers  cast  themselves  upon 
their  faces.  Many  were  killed  and  lay  about  in  the 


142         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

snow,  but,  not  daunted  for  an  instant  by  this  savage 
fire,  the  white  soldiers  again  leaped  to  their  feet,  and, 
cheered  by  the  cry,  "They  run,"  "They  run,"  stormed 
over  the  tree,  penetrated  the  stockade,  and  drove  the 
Indians  out  of  their  position  in  the  blockhouse. 

Many  continued  to  fall,  while  the  Narragansetts, 
rallying  again,  began  to  press  forward.  But,  at  this 
juncture,  the  Connecticut  troops  made  their  way  into 
the  stockade  through  a  breach  in  the  palisade  and  took 
the  warriors  in  the  flank.  All  the  Puritan  leaders  of 
this  division  fell  dead,  but  the  soldiers  struggled  like 
demons,  and,  as  the  men  of  Plymouth  scrambled  into 
the  opening  made  by  their  entrance,  the  Narragansetts 
fell  back,  foot  by  foot,  while  the  warriors  fought  desper 
ately  from  the  shelter  of  the  bags  and  baskets  of  grain 
in  the  wigwams.  At  this  moment  fire  burst  from  the 
tepees  and  the  wind  swept  a  mighty  wave  of  flame 
through  the  fort,  while  the  crackling  of  the  burning 
wood  and  skins  was  mingled  with  the  shrieks  of  the 
women  and  children,  the  yelling  of  the  warriors,  and  the 
harsh  yells  of  the  sturdy  Puritans. 

The  Indians  were  driven  from  the  stockade  into  the 
swamp,  where  from  the  shelter  of  the  thick  wood,  they 
still  kept  up  a  vigorous  fire  on  the  white  troops,  but,  as 
the  gloom  of  a  wild  winter's  night  settled  upon  the  scene 
of  battle,  those  Puritan  leaders  who  had  survived  the 
carnage  gathered  around  Captain  Winslow  in  the  glare 
of  the  blazing  wigwams,  while  the  driving  snow  turned 
their  figures  white  against  the  flaming  background. 
Their  ammunition  was  nearly  exhausted,  and,  as  they 
knew  that  the  Narragansetts — after  rallying  in  the 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    143 

morning — might  be  upon  them,  a  retreat  was  decided 
upon.  So  the  tired  and  weary  troops,  leaving  twenty 
of  the  dead  in  the  fort  to  deceive  the  Indians,  and  carry 
ing  the  wounded  upon  litters  made  of  muskets  and 
saplings,  began  a  long  and  dreary  march  to  the  settle 
ments.  Many  lost  their  way  and  wandered  all  night 
amid  the  storm,  while  seven  of  the  Captains  and  about 
seventy-five  of  the  soldiers  died  as  a  result  of  this  ex 
posure  during  the  next  few  days.  It  had  been  a  bitter 
contest,  and  the  blow  had  not  been  a  decisive  one,  as 
Philip — the  wary  and  indefatigable  Indian  leader- 
was  still  alive. 

The  little  town  of  Lancaster  is  in  the  far  interior  of 
Massachusetts,  and  this  was  attacked,  next  year,  in 
February,  by  the  Wachusett  Indians.  One  of  the 
Sachems  of  this  tribe  had  married  a  sister  of  Philip's 
wife  and  thus  there  was  a  close  bond  of  sympathy  be 
tween  these  warlike  people  and  the  followers  of  the 
King  of  the  Wampanoags.  There  were  several  garrison 
houses  in  the  village,  and  in  one — the  Rowlandson 
house — were  gathered  about  fifty  men  and  women, 
who,  awakened  one  cold  and  cheerless  morning  by  the 
wild  Indian  war  cry,  rushed  to  the  windows  and  looked 
out.  The  sight  which  met  their  eyes  was  terrifying, 
for  several  houses  were  in  flames,  and  the  Indians,  whose 
dim  forms  were  almost  indistinct  in  the  morning  haze, 
were  massacring  the  inmates  with  knives,  muskets 
and  tomahawks. 

Soon  the  Rowlandson  house  itself  was  attacked,  and, 
as  it  lay  on  the  summit  of  a  hill,  the  Indians  crouched 
along  the  crest  and  poured  a  continuous  fire  upon  it. 


144         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

For  two  hours  the  defenders  held  their  own,  until  a  cart 
filled  with  flax,  hemp  and  hay — seized  from  the  barn — 
was  wheeled  to  the  side  and  set  on  fire.  The  roof  and 
sides  of  the  garrison  house  were  soon  alight,  and  men, 
women  and  children  rushed  out  in  the  vain  hope  of 
reaching  the  next  house.  It  was  in  vain.  They  were 
all  either  killed  or  captured.  The  Indians  carried  off 
the  cattle  and  survivors  of  the  attack,  while,  a  few  days 
later,  the  town  was  abandoned  to  its  fate. 

Deerfield  had  also  been  deserted,  and  the  Indians  had 
taken  possession  of  the  untilled  cornfields  and  had 
planted  them  afresh;  while  some  miles  beyond,  at  the 
falls  on  the  Connecticut  River,  a  large  body  of  them 
was  camped,  in  order  to  catch  a  supply  of  fish  for  King 
Philip's  armies.  A  stout  Captain  Turner  was  at  Hat- 
field  when  news  was  brought  that  the  savages  were  near 
by  in  force,  so,  gathering  one  hundred  mounted  men,  he 
made  a  night  ride  of  twenty  miles,  and,  as  the  sound  of 
the  approach  was  deadened  by  the  rapids  in  the  river, 
the  English  found  the  Indians  fast  asleep.  At  day 
break,  on  May  10th,  the  troops  left  their  horses  in  a 
ravine  and  marched  a  mile  or  two  to  the  rear  of  the 
savages,  who  had  been  so  certain  of  their  seclusion  that 
they  had  not  even  posted  a  guard.  Spreading  out  in  a 
circle,  the  Puritans  suddenly  made  a  rush  into  the  camp. 
The  surprise  was  complete,  and  although  many  of  the 
savages  took  to  their  canoes,  they  were  washed  over 
the  falls  and  drowned  in  the  frothing,  eddying  water. 
Many  hid  among  the  rocks,  but  they  were  seized  and  put 
to  death  by  the  sword;  while  scores  were  shot  as  they 
attempted  to  cross  the  river.  Over  three  hundred 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    145 

warriors  were  thus  destroyed,  while  the  gallant  Turner 
did  not  lose  a  single  soldier,  and,  from  this  success,  had 
the  honor  of  having  the  falls  named  after  him. 

Not  far  off  was  another  party  of  Indians,  and,  when 
they  heard  the  noise  of  the  fight,  they  came  to  the  aid 
of  their  own  blood,  and  were  soon  on  Turner's  tracks. 
Sad  to  relate,  a  panic  seized  the  white  troops — for  a 
rumor  was  spread  about  that  King  Philip  was  at  hand 
with  a  thousand  warriors.  A  large  number  of  the  whites 
were  cut  off;  Turner  himself  was  killed;  but  the  main 
body,  with  their  tongues  fairly  hanging  from  their 
mouths — like  the  British  troops  in  the  retreat  from 
Lexington — reached  the  settlement  at  Hat  field.  The 
disaster  had  been  a  severe  blow  to  Philip,  for  it  broke  up 
his  fishery  and  many  of  his  best  sachems  had  been 
slain.  In  reprisal,  he  made  an  attack  upon  Hatfield, 
but  the  Indian  warriors  were  so  badly  whipped  that  they 
retreated  into  the  wilderness  to  mourn  their  losses  and 
prepare  for  the  last  desperate  stand  of  the  war. 

It  was  now  spring  of  the  year  1676,  and,  realizing 
that  they  must  use  every  effort  to  put  an  end  to  hos 
tilities,  the  Colonies  called  into  active  service  every 
able-bodied  man  or  boy  who  could  shoulder  a  musket. 
All  who  could  be  spared  from  work  upon  the  farms  were 
sent  out  upon  expeditions  against  the  various  bands  of 
warring  savages.  Nor  were  the  whites  always  success 
ful,  for  many  disasters  came  to  the  different  bands  of 
fighting  men,  as  they  marched  and  countermarched 
through  the  dense  woodland  of  the  interior  of  Massa 
chusetts,  where  the  moose  still  had  its  habitation,  and 
the  beaver,  lynx,  and  bear  were  often  to  be  met  with. 


146         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Thus  one  Captain  Wadsworth  was  surprised  as  he  went 
to  the  relief  of  Sudbury,  Massachusetts,  was  entrapped 
in  an  ambush,  and  was  killed,  with  sixty  of  his  men. 
Shortly  afterwards,  a  Captain  Pierce  with  fifty  Eng 
lishmen  and  twenty  friendly  Indians,  when  but  eight 
miles  from  Providence,  was  surrounded,  and,  although 
his  men  formed  in  a  circle,  back  to  back,  they  were 
practically  all  killed  or  captured. 

A  messenger  from  the  Captain  was  waiting  at  the 
church  door,  to  inform  a  Captain  Edwards  that  Pierce 
needed  assistance,  as  the  fierce  fight  was  going  on  in  the 
woods,  and,  had  he  not  delayed  in  giving  his  message, 
because  it  was  Sunday,  and  he  did  not  want  to  disturb 
the  meeting,  there  is  no  doubt  that  this  fight  would 
have  had  a  different  termination.  Not  long  afterwards, 
things  were  reversed,  and  three  hundred  mounted  men — 
English  and  Praying  Indians — overtook  a  body  of  nearly 
the  same  number  of  Narragansetts  in  a  swamp  in  their 
own  country  and  completely  annihilated  them.  Their 
chief  was  asked  if  he  had  anything  to  say  before  they 
executed  him.  "Yes,"  said  he,  "I  shall  die  before  my 
heart  is  soft,  or  I  have  said  anything  unworthy  of 
myself.  It  is  weU.  Ugh!  Ugh!" 

This  was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  The  tide  of  suc 
cess  for  King  Philip  began  to  ebb,  and,  under  the  leader 
ship  of  that  hard,  fighting  man,  Captain  Church  (who 
was  more  than  a  match  for  the  Indians  in  cunning, 
as  well  as  courage),  those  warriors  who  were  still  in  the 
field  against  the  whites  were  soon  driven  to  the  last 
ditch.  Day  and  night  Church  followed  the  savages  into 
the  swamps  and  forests,  so  that  they  were  reduced  to 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  JVIETACOMET    147 

live — if  they  did  not  actually  starve  or  freeze — upon 
dead  horses,  clams  and  roots.  The  loss  of  chiefs  and 
warriors  disheartened  the  Indians,  and  their  large 
expeditions  were  abandoned;  while  to  distract  pursuit, 
they  split  into  small  parties  and  fled  into  the  solitude 
of  the  forest.  Philip  himself  retreated  to  the  neigh 
borhood  of  his  former  settlement  at  Mount  Hope,  like 
a  fox,  who,  when  the  hounds  are  hot  upon  his  trail, 
seeks  his  burrow.  He  was  set  upon  on  all  sides,  and  only 
escaped  capture  by  many  a  hairbreadth. 

The  red  warrior  was  now  a  desolate  and  desperate 
man,  the  last  Sachem  of  an  ancient  race,  without  sub 
jects,  without  territory,  hunted  like  a  deer,  in  daily  fear 
of  capture,  in  danger  of  starving  and  with  no  shelter  at 
night  for  his  head.  All  of  his  chief  counsellors  and  best 
friends  had  been  killed;  his  uncle  was  shot  down  at  his 
side;  his  wife  and  child  (an  only  son)  were  captured. 
Alone,  friendless,  and  deserted,  he  hid  in  the  dense 
forest,  awaiting  the  doom  which  surely  and  relentlessly 
awaited  him.  "You  have  made  Philip  ready  to  die; 
you  have  made  him  as  poor  and  miserable  as  he  used 
to  make  the  English,  for  you  have  now  killed  and  taken 
all  his  relatives,"  said  some  Indian  prisoners  whom 
Church  captured,  as  he  looked  for  the  Wampanoag 
Chief  in  the  swamp. 

Philip  was  hiding  near  Assowomset  Pond,  while 
numerous  bodies  of  mounted  troops  and  friendly  Indians 
guarded  the  trails  which  led  to  it  and  scoured  the 
country  in  all  directions.  So  hunted  and  afraid  was  he 
that  he  fled  southward  in  the  hope  of  reaching  the 
country  of  the  Narragansetts.  Hot  in  pursuit  of  the 


148          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

fleeing  Sachem,  Captain  Church  left  Plymouth  in  search 
of  the  quarry,  beat  the  woods  about  Pocasset,  and 
finally  ferried  his  men  across  the  arm  of  Narragansett 
Bay — which  here  juts  into  the  land — and  camped  with 
them  in  Rhode  Island.  The  Captain  paid  a  visit  to  a 
friend's  house,  some  eight  miles  away,  when  two  horse 
men  rode  up,  who  called  out: 

"  What  will  you  give  for  some  news  of  Philip,  Captain?'7 

".I  will  give  a  good  deal,"  replied  the  rough  soldier. 

"Then  we  can  tell  you  where  he  is,"  said  one — a 
Major  Sanford — "for  a  Wampanoag  has  just  come  to 
our  camp  and  told  us  that,  as  Philip  had  killed  his  brother 
for  giving  him  advice  that  displeased  him,  he  had  fled 
from  him,  fearing  the  same  fate,  and,  in  revenge,  will 
tell  us  where  to  find  him." 

"Let  me  see  him  at  once,"  cried  Church.  "We  will 
immediately  be  upon  King  Philip's  trail." 

So,  riding  immediately  into  the  camp  where  the 
Wampanoag  had  been  taken,  they  found  him  willing 
to  guide  them  to  Philip's  hiding  place.  The  whole 
English  force,  marching  with  great  speed,  crossed  the 
water  at  Bristol  Ferry,  and  soon  arrived  shortly  after 
midnight  at  the  north  end  of  a  miry  swamp  near  Mount 
Hope.  A  small  force  was  sent  into  the  underbrush  at 
daybreak  to  beat  up  Philip's  hiding  place  and  drive 
him  into  flight,  while  soldiers  and  Indians  were  placed 
behind  trees,  all  around  the  swamp,  so  as  to  stop  him  if 
he  attempted  to  get  out. 

"I  have  placed  my  men  so  that  it  is  scarce  possible 
for  Philip  to  escape,"  said  Captain  Church  to  a  com 
panion,  when  suddenly  a  shot  whistled  over  their  heads 


KING  PHILIP,  OR  METACOMET    149 

and  the  noise  of  a  gun  in  the  direction  of  Philip's  camp 
was  immediately  followed  by  the  sound  of  a  volley. 

Some  of  the  soldiers  had  crept  upon  their  stomachs 
close  to  the  sleeping  camp,  when  the  Captain  in  charge 
saw  an  Indian  looking  at  him  from  behind  a  stump.  He 
consequently  fired  at  him  immediately,  and  thus  the 
Indian  camp  was,  in  a  second,  thrown  into  confusion. 
The  Indian  who  had  been  shot  at  had  been  missed.  It 
was  Philip,  who,  seizing  his  pouch,  gun,  and  powder 
horn,  plunged  immediately  into  the  swamp,  clad  only 
in  his  trousers  and  moccasins. 

As  the  King  of  the  Wampanoags  dashed  down  one  of 
the  many  trails  leading  into  the  undergrowth,  he  was 
seen  by  a  soldier  and  a  friendly  Indian  from  their  hiding 
place  behind  a  tree.  The  soldier  raised  his  gun  to  fire, 
but  the  morning  mist  had  dampened  his  powder  and  his 
musket  would  not  go  off.  But  the  Indian  fired  im 
mediately,  sending  one  bullet  through  the  heart  of  King 
Philip,  and  another,  two  inches  above  it.  The  great 
chief  fell  upon  his  face  in  the  mud,  while  the  savage  who 
had  laid  him  low  rushed  to  Church  with  the  news,  and, 
when  the  whole  force  was  assembled  and  had  been  in 
formed  of  Philip's  fate,  they  greeted  the  information 
with  loud  cheers.  The  friendly  Indians,  seizing  the  body 
by  the  leggins,  drew  it  out  of  the  mud  to  the  highland, 
where  it  was  immediately  cut  up.  The  head  was  severed 
from  the  body,  carried  to  Plymouth,  set  upon  a  pole  and 
paraded  through  the  streets.  It  was  then  placed  in  a 
conspicuous  spot,  where  it  remained  for  nearly  twenty- 
five  years. 

The  death  of  the  mighty  Sachem  of  the  Wampanoags 


150          FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

practically  ended  the  war,  although  some  Indians,  in 
small  parties,  held  out  a  bit  longer  throughout  all  of 
New  England.  Hostilities  had  lasted  for  more  than  a 
year,  and  had  been  disastrous  to  the  settlers;  for  thir 
teen  towns  had  been  destroyed,  six  hundred  buildings 
had  been  burned,  six  hundred  men  had  been  either 
killed  or  tomahawked;  numberless  cows,  sheep  and 
horses  had  been  stolen,  and  great  numbers  of  the  men 
of  New  England  had  been  disabled  by  wounds.  There 
was  hardly  a  family  throughout  Massachusetts  and 
Rhode  Island  that  did  not  mourn  its  dead.  The  power 
of  the  Indians  had  been  forever  destroyed,  for  not  only 
had  many  families  been  entirely  obliterated,  but  hun 
dreds  had  been  driven  to  the  far  West,  or  had  been  cap 
tured,  sent  to  the  West  Indies,  and  sold  as  slaves. 

Philip  had  fought  his  fight,  and  had  fallen,  as  a  guar 
dian  of  his  own  honor,  a  martyr  to  the  soil  of  his  fathers, 
and  of  the  proud  liberty  which  was  his  birthright. 
Never  again  was  the  Indian  to  possess  the  soil  of  New 
England  and  hunt  in  freedom  and  ease  through  its  forests, 
as  of  yore.  The  Anglo-Saxon  had  conquered,  and  to 
the  white  man  and  his  civilization  the  land  was  to  forever 
belong.  Thus  the  first  great  war  between  the  different 
races  ended  just  as  all  subsequent  conflicts  between 
the  red  men  and  the  white  were  to  terminate.  The 
white  man  was  to  be  found  invincible. 


PONTEAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON 

THE  war  waged  by  King  Philip  had  put  an  end  to 
all  further  hindrance  to  the  settlement  of  New 
England  by  the  whites,  and  the  hostile  Indians 
had  been  wellnigh  exterminated.  But,  as  the  restless 
settlers  pressed  westward,  ever  westward,  to  populate 
the  untouched  wilderness  and  to  build  hamlets  and  cul 
tivate  farms,  it  was  only  natural  that  the  western 
Indians  would  view  their  advance  with  the  same  anger 
that  had  smouldered  in  the  bosom  of  the  chief  Sachem 
of  the  Wampanoags.  The  French,  in  Canada,  were 
more  peaceably  disposed  towards  the  savages  than  were 
the  English ;  they  treated  them  with  some  consideration 
and  kindness ;  sent  their  Jesuit  Missionaries  among  them ; 
and  endeavored  to  teach  them  the  ways  of  civilization. 
As  the  English  pressed  onward  they  were  continually  in 
altercations  with  the  various  tribes  which  lay  in  the 
path  of  their  steady  emigration,  and  they  showed  them 
little  consideration,  kindness,  or  toleration. 

In  1755  war  broke  out  between  the  French  and 
English  for  the  possession  of  America.  Both  were  rival 
claimants  for  the  soil  of  the  New  World,  and  the  people 
of  the  northern  English  colonies  had  learned  to  regard 
their  Canadian  neighbors — the  French — with  the  bit 
terest  enmity.  They  hated  them  because  they  were 
of  a  different  religious  faith  than  their  own,  and  they 

151 


152         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

hated  them  because  they  were  friends  of  the  very 
Indians  who  made  depredations  upon  their  frontier 
settlements  and  slaughtered  the  peace-loving  white 
settlers.  The  Indians  were  plyed  with  gifts  and  flattered 
by  the  French,  so  that,  in  the  fierce  struggle  for  the 
possession  of  America,  the  red  warriors  sided,  for  the 
most  part,  with  those  who  held  dominion  over  Canada 
and  the  Great  Lakes.  The  English  won  the  war,  and 
thus  the  wilderness  beyond  the  Allegheny  mountains, 
over  which  France  had  claimed  sovereignty,  passed  into 
the  hands  of  her  rival,  who,  with  a  force  of  but  five  or 
six  hundred  men,  expected  to  keep  it  secure.  Little 
apprehension  was  felt  of  an  attack  from  the  red  inhabi 
tants  of  the  woods,  and,  as  the  French  had  signed  a 
capitulation,  the  English  considered  themselves  safe  in 
the  possession  of  this  new- won  territory.  But  they 
were  far  from  being  safe,  and  much  fighting  was  still 
to  be  done  before  peace  and  tranquility  were  to  come 
to  the  frontier. 

The  furthermost  settlement  of  the  English  was  at 
Detroit,  between  Lake  Erie  and  Lake  St.  Clair,  and 
upon  the  river  of  the  same  name.  There  were  about 
twenty-five  hundred  inhabitants  in  this  little  com 
munity.  Straggling  huts  were  along  the  river  banks, 
and  in  the  centre  was  a  fortified  town,  called  the  Fort, 
consisting  of  about  a  hundred  houses  surrounded  by 
a  palisade.  A  British  garrison,  consisting  partly  of 
regulars  and  partly  of  provincial  rangers,  was  quartered 
in  well-built  barracks  inside  the  town,  or  Fort.  There 
were  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  soldiers,  forty  fur- 
traders,  and  a  few  half-breed  scouts  who  could  not  be 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   153 

relied  upon  in  case  of  a  war  with  the  redskins.  Sev 
eral  light  pieces  of  artillery  were  mounted  upon  the 
bastions,  while  two  small  armed  schooners — the  Beaver 
and  the  Gladwyn — lay  anchored  in  the  stream.  The  gar 
rison  was  commanded  by  a  splendid  English  officer, 
named  Gladwyn,  whose  courage  was  that  of  a  lion, 
and  whose  fighting  qualities  were  far  superior  to  most 
of  the  British  officers  who  were  engaged  in  the  struggles 
upon  the  frontier.  A  large  Indian  village  of  the  Pot- 
tawattamies  was  on  the  western  shore  of  the  river,  a  little 
below  the  fort;  while,  nearly  opposite,  on  the  eastern 
side,  was  a  village  of  the  Wyandots;  and  on  the  same 
side,  five  miles  away,  the  Ottawas,  under  Chief  Pontiac, 
had  fixed  their  abode. 

Although  the  Indians  appeared  to  be  on  friendly  terms 
with  those  in  the  town,  the  country  had  scarcely  been 
transferred  to  the  English — at  the  conclusion  of  the 
French  and  Indian  war — when  smothered  murmurs  of 
discontent  began  to  be  heard  among  all  the  Indian 
tribes  of  the  interior.  From  the  headwaters  of  the 
Potomac  River  to  Lake  Superior,  and  along  the  winding 
courses  of  the  Mississippi,  a  deep-seated  hatred  of  the 
English  increased  with  great  rapidity.  When  the  French 
had  held  possession  of  Detroit  and  the  forts  upon  the 
frontier,  they  had  supplied  the  surrounding  Indians 
with  guns,  ammunition  and  clothing,  but  the  English 
would  give  them  nothing.  The  French  had  been  kind 
to  the  savages  when  they  visited  their  forts,  but  the 
English  received  them  with  cold  looks  and  harsh  words, 
when,  as  was  their  custom,  they  would  lounge  about  the 
fort  and  lazily  stretch  themselves  out  in  the  shadow 


154         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

of  the  walls.  This  was  galling  to  their  proud  and  haughty 
spirits.  Then,  too,  the  best  lands  of  the  red  men  were 
being  invaded  by  white  settlers  and  all  remonstrances 
had  been  useless.  The  Dela wares  and  Shawanoes,  in 
particular,  were  highly  exasperated  at  this,  and  their 
feelings  were  shared  by  all  the  surrounding  tribes,  in 
whose  breasts  slumbered  a  terrible  hatred  and  distrust 
of  the  oncoming  English,  who  had  been  their  enemies  in 
the  late  war  and  towards  whom  the  Indians  had  the 
rancorous  enmity  that  an  Indian  always  feels  against 
those  to  whom  he  has  been  opposed  in  battle. 

Pontiac  was  principal  chief  of  the  Ottawas  and  head 
of  a  loose  confederacy  of  the  Ottawas,  Ojibwas,  and 
Pottawattamies.  He  was  about  fifty  years  of  age:  tall, 
sinewy,  strong.  Over  those  around  him  his  authority 
was  almost  despotic,  while  his  name  was  known  and 
respected  among  all  the  savages  who  resided  in  the  coun 
try,  stretching  from  the  Ohio  River  to  the  lowest  waters 
of  the  Mississippi.  He  possessed  great  energy,  crafti 
ness,  and  oratorical  prowess,  while  his  courage  in  war 
was  far-famed.  It  is  said  that  he  commanded  the 
Ottawas  in  the  defeat  of  General  Braddock  at  Fort  Du- 
Quesne — during  the  French  and  Indian  war — and  it 
is  certain  that  he  was  treated  with  much  honor  by  the 
French  officers,  for  one. of  them  had  presented  him  with 
the  regimentals  of  a  soldier  of  that  country,  which  he 
is  only  known  to  have  worn  upon  one  occasion.  Not 
long  before  the  beginning  of  the  French  and  Indian  war, 
he  had  saved  the  French  garrison  at  Detroit  from  an 
attack  from  some  discontented  tribes  of  the  North,  who 
had  marched  to  destroy  it.  For  this  he  had  been  made 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   155 

much  of  by  the  French  officers.  "He  puts  on  an  air  of 
majesty  and  princely  grandeur,"  said  Major  Rogers, 
(one  of  his  opponents),  "and  is  greatly  honored  and 
revered  by  his  subjects." 

Pontiac  saw  that  the  Indian  race  was  now  confronted 
with  a  grave  crisis,  for,  when  Canada  had  become  an 
English  province,  the  tribes  had  sunk  from  their  former 
position  of  importance.  Up  to  this  time,  France  and 
England — the  two  rival  European  nations — had  kept 
each  other  in  check  upon  the  American  continent  and 
the  Indians  had  been  nattered  by  each,  for  their  services 
were  needed  by  both.  Now  the  English  had  gained  un 
disputed  control  of  America,  and  the  Indians,  being  no 
longer  important  as  allies,  were  treated  as  animals  of  a 
lower  order  of  intellect  who  could  be  trampled  upon  with 
impunity.  Thus  the  mind  of  the  wily  Ottawa  Chief 
conceived  the  idea  of  driving  the  English  into  the  sea, 
of  once  more  restoring  the  French  to  power,  in  the  West, 
and  thus  to  again  place  the  Indians  in  their  former  po 
sition  of  influence.  The  French  Canadians  continually 
told  him  falsehoods,  assuring  him  that  the  war  had  not 
been  lost  by  the  French,  that  the  armies  of  King  Louis 
were  now  on  their  way  to  recover  Canada,  and  that  the 
French  and  their  red  allies  could  soon  drive  the  hated 
English  away  from  their  beloved  country.  Stirred  by 
these  lies,  and  urged  on  by  revenge,  ambition,  and 
patriotism,  Pontiac  decided  upon  war. 

The  various  Indian  tribes  which  lived  along  the 
Mississippi;  in  the  country  of  the  Ohio  River  and  its 
many  tributaries;  and  along  the  cold  waters  of  the 
Ottawa  to  the  north,  were  visited  hi  1762  by  ambassa- 


156         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

dors  from  Pontiac.  They  carried  with  them  a  toma 
hawk  stained  red  and  a  war-belt  of  wampum,  and,  as 
they  went  from  camp  to  camp,  they  would  fling  down 
the  tomahawk  on  the  ground,  hold  the  war-belt  above 
their  heads,  and  deliver  a  long  speech,  urging  the  war 
riors  to  join  in  the  extermination  of  the  English.  Every 
where  this  appeal  was  heard  with  nods  and  gesticulations 
of  approval,  and  all  of  the  Algonquin  nation — including 
the  Wyandots,  the  Senecas,  and  several  tribes  of  the 
lower  Mississippi — pledged  themselves  to  aid  in  this 
important  movement.  Of  the  powerful  Iroquois  nation 
of  New  York  State  only  the  Senecas  would  join,  but  the 
force  against  the  whites  was  so  overwhelming  that  it 
seemed  hardly  possible  that  the  few  scattered  English 
garrisons  could  escape  a  terrible  slaughter.  Yet,  confi 
dent  in  that  supreme  race  confidence  which  has  made  the 
English  the  most  all-powerful  nation  since  the  Roman 
legions  held  dominion  over  the  greater  part  of  Europe, 
the  white  garrisons  of  the  wilderness  kept  their  posts  in 
fancied  peace  and  seclusion. 

The  dreary  winter  drew  to  a  close,  and  the  Indians  hid 
their  intentions  beneath  calm  and  serious  countenances. 
They  still  lounged  about  the  forts,  begged  for  tobacco, 
gunpowder,  and  whiskey,  and  gave  no  sign  of  intended 
wrong  or  violence.  Yet  they  were  busy  sawing  the 
muzzles  of  their  guns  in  half  so  that  they  could  con 
ceal  them  underneath  their  blankets,  were  gathering  a 
large  supply  of  powder  and  ammunition  from  the 
French  traders,  and  were  holding  war-dances  in  their 
far-distant  habitation.  Now  and  again  intimations 
of  their  danger  reached  the  garrisons  and  startled 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   157 

them  from  their  fancied  security.  An  English  trader 
came  into  Detroit  one  day,  and  reported  that  he  had 
heard  a  half-breed  scoundrel  boast  that  before  next 
summer  he  would  have  English  scalp-locks  as  a  fringe 
to  his  hunting-shirt.  The  commander  of  the  garrison 
laughed  at  the  tale.  Later  on  — in  March  1763 — the 
British  commander  Holmes,  at  Fort  Miami,  on  the 
Maumee  River  (about  one  hundred  and  ninety  miles 
southwest  from  Detroit)  was  told  of  Pontiac's  con 
spiracy  by  a  friendly  Indian.  "The  warriors  of  the 
neighboring  village/7  said  he,  "have  received  a  war- 
belt  and  bloodstained  hatchet,  with  a  message  urging 
them  to  destroy  you  and  your  soldiers.  If  you  do  not 
kill  them  first,  they  will  do  so."  Holmes  believed  the 
tale,  called  the  warriors  together,  and  told  them  of  his 
suspicions.  The  savages  acted  as  many  of  them  have 
done  under  similar  circumstances — confessed  that  they 
had  meditated  an  attack  upon  the  garrison,  said  that  a 
neighboring  tribe  had  told  them  they  must  do  it,  under 
pain  of  death,  and  professed  eternal  love  and  good 
will  towards  the  English.  This  allayed  the  suspicions 
of  the  commander  of  Fort  Maumee,  but  he  reported  his 
discovery  to  Major  Gladwyn,  at  Detroit,  who,  seeing 
the  peaceful  condition  of  the  Indians  in  the  three  vil 
lages  near  his  own  fort,  expressed  the  opinion  that  there 
was  apparently  some  trouble  among  the  Indians,  but  that 
it  would  soon  blow  over.  He  little  suspected  that 
Pontiac — the  arch-conspirator — was  in  a  village  but  a 
short  distance  away,  and  that  his  heart  was  burning 
with  revenge  and  hate  against  him  and  his  small  garri 
son.  He  little  believed  that,  as  the  savages  came  in  from 


158         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

their  winter  hunting  grounds,  on  the  approach  of  spring, 
and  did  not  come  into  the  fort,  as  usual,  they  were  fast 
making  preparations  for  an  assault  upon  him.  In  a 
few  weeks  he  was  to  learn  more  of  the  Indians'  character 
than  he  had  ever  suspected. 

Pontiac  had  a  small  cabin  of  bark  and  rushes  upon 
an  island  in  Lake  St.  Clair,  and  here,  with  his  squaws 
and  children,  he  waited  for  the  time  to  arrive  when  his 
braves  would  be  ready  to  strike.  His  plan  of  operations 
was  to  make  a  sudden  and  simultaneous  attack  upon  all 
the  British  forts  on  the  Great  Lakes  and  rivers  of  the 
Middle  West — at  St.  Joseph,  Ouiantinon,  Green  Bay, 
Michillimackinac,  Detroit,  the  Maumee,  and  the  San- 
dusky — and  also  upon  the  forts  at  Niagara,  Presqu'- 
Isle,  Le  Boeuf,  Venango,  and  Pittsburg.  Most  of  these 
strongholds  were  badly  protected ;  they  were  mere 
trading  places,  yet  to  the  Indians  they  seemed  to  be 
great  obstacles.  It  was  evident  to  the  mighty  war 
Chief  that  the  destruction  of  these  posts  and  their 
garrisons  would  be  a  blow  from  which  the  hated  English 
could  never  recover.  And,  as  he  lay  upon  his  skins, 
looking  out  across  the  hazy  waters  of  the  Lake,  his  heart 
beat  with  the  fierceness  of  his  passions,  and  the  hot 
blood  surged  tumultuously  through  his  veins.  All  was 
going  well  with  his  plans ;  on  all  sides  his  allies  were 
preparing  for  the  great  blow,  and,  viewing  once  more 
the  supremacy  of  the  French  and  of  his  own  people,  the 
fierce  light  of  ambition  glittered  in  the  eye  of  Pontiac, 
the  red  Napoleon.  Thus,  as  spring  came  to  the  wilder 
ness,  and  the  leafy  forests  were  resounding  with  the 
chant  of  bright-colored  birds,  the  wild  death  songs  of 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   159 

the  Indians  sounded  harshly  discordant  from  the 
depths  of  the  green  wood. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  fifth  of  May,  a  Canadian 
woman,  called  St.  Aubin,  who  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the 
principal  settlers,  crossed  over  the  Detroit  River  to  ob 
tain  some  maple  sugar  and  venison  from  the  Ottawa 
Indians.  When  she  entered  the  village,  she  was  sur 
prised  to  find  several  of  the  warriors  filing  off  the  muz 
zles  of  their  guns,  so  as  to  reduce  them  to  the  length  of 
about  a  yard,  and  upon  her  return  home  she  mentioned 
this  to  several  of  her  neighbors.  The  blacksmith  of 
the  village  remarked  that  many  of  the  Indians  had  been 
to  his  shop  within  the  past  month,  and  had  attempted 
to  borrow  files  and  saws  for  purposes  which  they  could 
not  tell  him  of.  These  revelations  excited  the  suspicions 
of  the  older  Canadians  who  had  lived  long  among  the 
Indians,  so,  going  to  the  Fort,  one  of  them — as  spokes 
man — told  Major  Gladwyn  to  be  upon  his  guard,  for  the 
Indians  meditated  treachery.  The  courteous  comman 
dant  treated  this  advice  with  scorn,  and  scoffed  at  the 
news  of  an  outbreak. 

But,  in  a  day  or  two,  news  came  to  him  which  changed 
his  ideas  very  materially.  In  the  Pottawattamie 
village  was  an  Ojibwa  girl,  called  Catherine,  who  was 
much  attached  to  this  gallant  Major  in  charge  of  the 
British  troops.  On  the  day  following  the  first  announce 
ment  of  trouble,  she  came  to  Gladwyn's  quarters,  bring 
ing  with  her  a  pair  of  elkskin  moccasins  which  he  had 
requested  her  to  make,  and,  showed  by  her  downcast 
face  and  sad  look  that  she  had  something  unusual  on 
her  mind.  Her  demeanor  was  so  peculiar  that  Gladwyn 


160         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

called  her  to  him  and  requested  that  she  tell  him  what 
weighed  upon  her  spirits.  "Promise  me  that  you  will 
not  betray  me/'  said  the  Indian  girl,  "and  I  will  reveal 
my  secret." 

"I  promise,"  answered  the  intrepid  soldier. 

"Then  I  will  speak/'  continued  the  Ojibwa  maiden. 
"Tomorrow  Pontiac  will  come  to  the  fort  with  sixty  of 
his  chiefs.  Each  will  be  armed  with  a  gun  cut  short  off 
and  hidden  beneath  his  blanket.  Pontiac  will  demand 
a  council,  and,  after  he  has  delivered  his  speech,  he  will 
offer  you  a  peace-belt  of  wampum,  holding  it  in  a  re 
versed  position.  This  will  be  the  signal  for  an  attack. 
The  chiefs  will  spring  up  and  fire  upon  the  officers,  and 
the  Indians  in  the  street  will  fall  upon  the  garrison. 
Every  Englishman  will  be  killed,  but  not  the  scalp  of  a 
single  Frenchman  will  be  touched." 

The  English  Major  was  now  thoroughly  aroused  to  his 
peril.  He  called  together  his  officers  and  told  them 
what  he  had  heard.  Immediately,  every  preparation 
was  made  to  meet  the  expected  attack,  half  the  garrison 
was  ordered  under  arms,  and  all  the  officers  made  ready 
to  spend  the  night  upon  the  ramparts,  for,  as  the  Indians 
nearly  numbered  from  six  hundred  to  two  thousand, 
the  commandant  feared  that  they  might  learn  that  their 
plan  had  been  discovered  and  would  storm  the  fort  be 
fore  morning.  The  sentries  were  doubled,  and,  again 
and  again,  during  the  night,  Gladwyn  mounted  the  ram 
parts  to  look  far  out  into  the  gloom  of  the  soft,  moist 
air.  The  shrill  piping  of  frogs  sounded  from  the  still 
banks  of  the  river,  while,  as  the  night  wind  swept  across 
the  clearing  before  the  doomed  defenses,  the  sullen  boom- 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   161 

ing  of  Indian  drums,  and  the  wild  chorus  of  quavering 
yells  came  ominously  to  his  startled  ears.  The  savages 
were  holding  their  war  dances  around  their  distant 
camp  fires,  and  were  preparing  for  their  work  of  ruin 
and  destruction  upon  the  following  day. 

Next  morning  the  sun  rose  brightly  and  soon  dissolved 
the  waving  mist  which  hung  over  the  river,  disclosing  to 
the  eager  eyes  of  the  sentries  a  fleet  of  birch-bark 
canoes,  crossing  from  the  other  shore.  They  seemed 
to  be  heavily  laden  and  moved  very  slowly  through  the 
water,  propelled  by  two  or  three  warriors  in  each. 
But  there  were  ten  or  fifteen  warriors  in  every  canoe, 
lying  flat  upon  their  faces,  so  that  their  number  would 
not  arouse  the  suspicions  of  the  keen-eyed  English 
troops.  The  frail  boats  reached  the  bank  behind  a 
cluster  of  trees,  the  warriors  sprang  out,  unnoticed, 
upon  the  shore,  and  soon  the  common — behind  the  fort 
— was  thronged  with  squaws,  children,  and  braves,  some 
naked,  and  others  brilliantly  painted  white,  vermilion, 
and  pale  blue.  They  moved  restlessly  to  and  fro, 
while  many  of  the  savages,  wrapped  in  their  blankets, 
and  holding  them  close  up  to  their  faces,  stalked  up  to 
the  fort,  scowling  at  the  palisades  and  glowering  evilly 
at  the  sentries. 

Meanwhile  the  alarmed  Major  in  command  of  De 
troit  had  not  been  idle.  The  whole  garrison  was  ordered 
under  arms.  Bayonets  were  placed  in  the  end  of  the 
muskets,  revolvers  were  strapped  to  waists,  powder 
horns  were  filled  to  the  brims.  The  English  fur  traders 
in  the  fort  closed  their  storehouses  and  armed  their 
men,  who,  with  long  flintlocks,  scraggy  beards,  tawny 


162         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

hunting  shirts,  and  weather-beaten  faces,  looked  as  if 
they  could  put  up  a  very  excellent  fight.  All  were  cool, 
confident,  and  ready  for  whatever  might  transpire. 

It  was  not  long  before  Pontiac,  himself,  approached 
at  the  head  of  sixty  Indian  chiefs,  all  marching  in  single 
file.  They  were  wrapped  to  the  throat  in  colored 
blankets  and  some  had  hawk,  eagle,  and  raven  plumes 
fluttering  from  their  heads,  while  others  had  shaved 
their  crowns,  leaving  only  a  scalp-lock  hanging  to  one 
side.  Their  cheeks  were  smeared  with  white  lead,  soot, 
ochre,  and  vermilion,  while  their  keen,  beady  eyes 
gleamed  in  their  sockets  vindictively,  and  gave  them 
a  grim  and  horrible  aspect.  As  they  crossed  the  bridge 
leading  over  a  creek  near  by,  a  Canadian  settler,  named 
Beaufait,  met  them,  and  stepped  to  one  side  in  order 
to  allow  them  to  pass.  This  they  did,  without  glancing 
at  him,  but,  as  the  last  warrior  approached,  he  recog 
nized  him  as  an  old  friend  and  associate.  Uttering  a 
vindictive  "Ugh!"  the  warrior  opened  his  blanket, 
disclosing  the  hidden  gun,  and,  pointing  with  his  arm  to 
the  fort,  showed  by  a  wave  of  his  hand  that  he  meant 
to  use  it  with  effect  upon  the  English.  The  Canadian 
was  too  startled  to  move  and  stood  looking  after  them, 
like  a  person  suddenly  paralyzed. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  Chief  of  the  Ottawas 
reached  the  fort,  and,  at  his  request  to  be  admitted,  the 
gateway  was  immediately  thrown  open  to  him.  In  an 
instant  the  cruel  traitor  was  inside  the  palisade,  but,  as 
his  keen  eye  gazed  around  him,  he  started  back,  and  a 
deep  ejaculation  escaped  from  behind  the  folds  of  his 
gaudy  blanket.  The  sight  that  met  his  eyes  might 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   163 

well  have  terrified  his  crafty  soul,  for  at  a  glance  he  saw 
that  his  long-meditated  plot  was  ruined.  Ranks  of  red- 
coated  soldiers  stood  upon  either  side  of  the  gateway, 
their  guns  at  parade-rest,  and  their  glittering  bayonets 
flashing  in  the  rays  of  the  gleaming  sun.  He  pressed 
on  with  his  followers,  but,  as  he  passed  the  first  house, 
he  saw  the  motley  collection  of  fur  traders  armed  to 
the  teeth,  standing  upon  the  corner  of  the  street,  and 
glowering  at  him  and  his  warriors  like  fierce  wolf-hounds 
on  the  leash.  A  drum  beat,  the  soldiers  closed  the  gate 
and  formed  a  double  line  in  the  rear,  but,  regaining  his 
composure,  Pontiac  strode  forward  into  the  narrow 
street,  while  his  chiefs,  glancing  uncertainly  from  side 
to  side,  marched  after  their  leader  to  the  council  chamber. 

The  council  house  was  a  large  building  near  the 
river,  and,  as  the  Indians  entered,  they  saw  Gladwyn, 
with  several  of  his  officers,  seated  in  readiness  to  receive 
them.  The  now  cautious  chiefs  could  not  help  seeing 
that  every  British  officer  had  a  sword  at  his  side  and  a 
brace  of  pistols  at  his  belt.  Therefore,  the  red  con 
spirators  began  to  be  afraid,  and,  eying  each  other  with 
uneasy  glances,  they  began  to  back  away  towards  the 
doorway  through  which  they  had  just  entered.  But 
Pontiac  strode  before  the  commandant  and  spoke  with 
a  loud  voice.  "Why  do  I  see  so  many  of  my  father's 
young  men  standing  in  the  street  with  their  guns?" 
said  he.  "Is  it  for  warfare  against  the  French  that 
they  are  preparing?" 

Gladwyn  could  not  speak  the  Ottawa  tongue,  so  re 
plied  through  his  interpreter  La  Butte. 

"I  have  ordered  my  soldiers  under  arms  for  the  sake 


164         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

of  order  and  discipline/'  said  he.  "We  are  to  hold  a 
parade  this  afternoon." 

Still  gazing  cautiously  around  them,  the  chiefs  at 
length  sat  down  upon  some  mats  on  the  floor,  and,  after 
a  long  pause,  in  which  the  pipe  of  peace  was  passed 
cautiously  around,  Pontiac  arose  to  address  the  as 
sembly.  In  his  right  hand  was  the  belt  of  wampum, 
and,  as  he  addressed  the  officers,  assuring  them  that 
he  had  come  only  to  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace  and  pro 
mote  their  friendship,  the  British  soldiers  kept  their 
eyes  fastened  upon  it  writh  looks  of  eager  expectation. 
Suddenly,  he  raised  the  belt  as  if  to  give  the  signal  for 
attack,  and,  as  he  did  so,  Major  Gladwyn  motioned 
slightly  with  his  hand. 

Immediately  the  roll  of  a  drum  sounded  from  beyond 
the  doorway,  the  rattle  of  muskets  and  tramp  of  many 
feet  reverberated  through  the  silent  hall,  while  the  shrill 
blast  of  a  bugle  woke  the  echoes  of  the  almost  silent 
fortification.  Pontiac  stood  as  if  confounded,  and,  as 
he  saw  the  unruffled  brow  and  keen  eye  of  the  British 
3ommandant  fixed  full  upon  him,  he  turned  and  sat 
upon  the  ground  in  stupid  amazement. 

Gladwyn  now  rose  to  speak,  and,  as  he  did  so,  his  eye 
flashed  fire  and  determination.  "Friendship  and  pro 
tection  shall  be  given  you  as  long  as  you  deserve  it, 
0  chiefs/'  said  he,  "but  as  soon  as  you  show  that  you 
are  not  deserving  of  our  friendship,  then  you  will  see 
our  vengeance.  We  wish  to  be  at  peace  with  our  red 
brethren,  but,  if  you  injure  a  single  one  of  our  Great 
Father's  children,  then  our  friendship  shall  be  at  an 
end,  forever."  At  this  he  sat  down  and  the  council 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   165 

closed  with  a  speech  by  Pontiac  in  which  he  said  that  he 
would  return  in  a  few  days  with  his  squaws  and  children, 
for  he  wanted  them  to  shake  hands  with  their  fathers, 
the  English.  Gladwyn  did  not  make  reply  to  this. 
At  his  command,  the  gates  of  the  fort  were  thrown  aside, 
the  cowering  savages  filed  out  into  the  open,  and,  with 
a  sigh  of  relief,  the  British  soldiers  mounted  the  ram 
parts  and  watched  their  retreating  forms  as  they  dis 
appeared  in  the  distance.  The  great  plot  of  the  crafty 
Pontiac  had  been  a  complete  failure. 

Furious  with  rage  and  disappointment,  the  mighty 
chief  of  the  Ottawas  withdrew  to  his  camp,  bitterly 
cursing  the  turn  of  fortune,  but  resolved  to  visit  the 
English  once  more,  and  to  convince  them  if  possible  that 
their  suspicions  against  him  were  unfounded.  So,  early 
the  next  day,  he  came  to  the  fort  with  three  of  his  chiefs, 
bearing  in  his  right  hand  the  sacred  calumet  or  peace 
pipe.  He  was  permitted  to  enter,  and,  offering  it  to 
Gladwyn  and  his  officers,  addressed  them  as  follows: 
"My  fathers,  evil  birds  have  sung  lies  into  your  ears. 
We  that  stand  before  you  are  friends  of  the  English. 
We  love  them  as  our  brothers,  and,  to  prove  our  love, 
we  have  come  this  day  to  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace." 
At  his  departure,  he  presented  the  pipe  to  one  of  the 
British  soldiers  as  a  token  of  his  regard,  while  in  the 
afternoon  the  Indians  engaged  in  a  game  of  ball  on  the 
flat  plain  near  the  fort.  Pontiac  went  to  the  Potta- 
wattamie  village  and  had  a  long  consultation  upon 
the  best  method  of  gaining  an  entrance  to  the  fort, 
for  he  now  saw  that  the  white  men  had  been  keen 
enough  to  see  througlxhis  evil  designs. 


166         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Early  next  day  the  garrison  saw  the  common  behind 
the  fort  fairly  swarming  with  Indians,  and  Pontiac, 
advancing  from  the  black  crowd  of  painted  warriors,  ap 
proached  the  gate.  He  walked  up  to  it  and  attempted 
to  open  the  door,  but  it  was  fast  closed  against  him. 
"Open,  open,  to  me,"  he  shouted  to  the  sentinels,  "I 
would  speak  with  Major  Gladwyn."  To  this  the  Major 
himself  replied,  stating  that  he  might  enter,  if  he  wished 
to,  alone,  but  that  the  crowd  he  had  brought  with  him 
must  remain  outside.  Intense  hatred  and  malice 
shone  in  the  eyes  of  the  Ottawa  chief,  as  he  saw  that  he 
could  not  pass  the  gates,  and,  with  a  fierce  gesture  of  his 
arm,  he  turned  abruptly  from  the  palisade  and  walked 
off  to  his  followers,  who,  in  black  multitudes,  lay  upon 
the  ground  just  beyond  reach  of  the  guns  of  the  bastions. 
It  was  time  to  throw  off  the  mask  of  dissimulation. 

As  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  gazed  after  his  retreat 
ing  figure,  they  saw  the  Indians  leap  from  their  positions, 
" yelping  like  a  lot  of  devils,"  and  begin  to  run,  hi  a 
body,  towards  the  house  of  an  old  English  woman  who 
lived  at  a  distant  part  of  the  common  with  her  family. 
With  fierce  blows  of  their  tomahawks  and  war  clubs 
they  soon  beat  down  the  doors,  and,  in  a  moment  more, 
the  long  scalp-yell  told  only  too  plainly  what  had  been 
the  fate  of  the  inmates.  While  this  was  occurring 
another  large  body  ran,  whooping  and  yelping,  to  the 
river  bank,  and,  leaping  into  their  birchbark  canoes, 
paddled  with  speed  to  an  island  in  the  river  where  lived 
an  old  English  sergeant  called  Fisher.  He  was  soon 
routed  out  of  the  cellar,  where  he  had  taken  refuge,  was 
dragged  outside,  and  murdered.  Every  Englishman  in 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   167 

the  fort,  whether  officer,  trader,  or  soldier,  was  now 
ordered  under  arms.  Gladwyn,  himself,  walked  the 
ramparts  throughout  the  night.  He  expected  an 
attack  in  the  morning,  and  his  expectations  were  fully 
realized. 

When  the  sleepy  sentinels  on  the  ramparts  saw  the 
first  red  tinge  of  dawn  tint  the  hazy  east,  next  morn, 
a  savage  chorus  of  war  whoops  arose  from  every  side 
of  the  fort.  The  men  leaped  to  their  posts  on  the  bastion 
and  behind  the  loopholes  of  the  palisade,  and,  as  they 
did  so,  a  vast  swarm  of  savage  warriors — Wyandots, 
Pottawattamies,  and  Ojibwas — rushed  furiously  at  the 
walls,  discharging  their  guns  incessantly,  and  screeching 
like  so  many  wildcats.  But,  as  they  came  near  enough 
to  be  seen,  suddenly  they  scampered  behind  barns  and 
fences,  skulked  behind  bushes,  or  lay  flat  upon  their 
stomachs  in  hollows  of  the  ground.  Each — with  a  mouth 
filled  with  bullets — charged  and  fired  recklessly,  while 
uttering  the  most  blood-curdling  yells.  They  were 
naked,  painted  all  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  with  the 
agility  of  monkeys  dodged  the  shot  from  the  cannon  of 
the  fort.  Every  loophole  was  a  target  for  their  bullets, 
but  they  were  poor  shots  and  hardly  ever  hit  the  mark. 
The  soldiers,  on  the  other  hand,  took  deliberate  aim,  and 
now  and  again  a  painted  devil  would  leap  high  into  the 
air  with  a  fierce  yell  of  pain,  showing  that  some  good, 
British  lead  had  taken  effect.  A  host  of  Indians  found 
shelter  behind  a  cluster  of  outbuildings,  but  a  cannon, 
loaded  with  red-hot  spikes,  was  aimed  at  the  strategic 
point.  The  wooden  houses  were  soon  in  flames,  and  the 
savages  fled,  howling  dismally,  while  the  soldiers  pep- 


168         FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

pered  them  with  ball,  as  they  decamped.  Gladwyn 
walked  continually  among  his  men,  encouraging  them 
by  word  and  gesture,  while  the  stern  features  of  Pontiac 
could  be  seen  eagerly  watching  the  turn  of  events  from 
a  hillock  in  the  rear  of  his  barbarous  crew. 

So  the  fight  waged  for  six  hours,  but,  as  the  sun  grew 
hot  overhead,  the  yelping  masses  of  Indians  became 
weary  of  their  useless  efforts.  Gradually  their  rifle 
fire  ceased,  their  war  whoops  died  away,  and  their 
painted  bodies  began  to  disappear  from  the  fence  rails, 
bushes,  and  houses,  which  partly  hid  them  from  the 
eyes  of  the  garrison.  Few  had  been  hit  by  bullets  from 
the  fort,  for  few  had  exposed  themselves.  Among  the 
garrison  only  five  men  had  been  wounded  and  these  not 
seriously.  The  first  honor  of  the  fight  for  the  possession 
of  Detroit  had  thus  distinctly  been  with  the  British 
troops,  and  Major  GladywTn  smiled  with  pleasure  as  he 
gazed  out  across  the  river  at  the  clusters  of  Indian  tepees 
which  sheltered  those  who  were  thirsting  for  his  life- 
blood  and  for  that  of  his  men.  Provisions  were  scarce, 
but  the  courage  of  his  soldiers  was  not  lacking,  and  he 
determined  to  fight  to  the  last  ditch  rather  than  to  capitu 
late  to  such  an  enemy. 

Still  under  the  impression  that  the  whole  affair  was  a 
sudden  outbreak  of  no  particular  importance,  and  that 
the  anger  of  the  Indians  would  soon  subside,  Major 
Gladwyn,  being  in  great  want  of  provisions,  opened 
negotiations  with  the  savages,  under  cover  of  which 
he  hoped  to  smuggle  in  necessary  supplies  from  the 
French  Canadians,  whom  the  followers  of  Pontiac  would 
not  attack.  Some  of  his  officers  advised  him  to  embark 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   169 

the  troops  aboard  the  two  sloops  and  depart  for  Niagara, 
but  to  this  advice  the  gallant  soldier  would  not  listen. 
Three  ambassadors  were,  therefore,  sent  to  the  Indian 
camp,  among  whom  was  a  Major  Campbell,  a  brave 
and  hardy  officer.  Five  or  six  of  the  French  also  went 
along. 

Pontiac  took  the  ambassadors  by  the  hand  and  led 
them  to  his  camp,  where,  after  a  long  conference,  Camp 
bell  appreciated  his  danger  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to 
retire.  "My  father,"  said  the  Ottawa  chief  to  him, 
"  you  will  sleep  tonight  in  the  lodges  of  your  red  children." 
Thus  the  gallant  officer  was  betrayed  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy,  nor  did  he  ever  live  to  again  see  the  British 
garrison,  as  an  Indian  warrior  murdered  him  shortly 
afterwards. 

Word  was  then  sent  by  Pontiac  to  the  fort  that  the 
troops  should  immediately  surrender,  lay  down  their 
arms,  as  their  fathers,  the  French,  had  been  obliged  to 
do,  leave  the  cannon,  magazines,  and  merchants' 
goods,  and  the  two  vessels,  and  be  escorted  in  batteaux 
(long  boats)  by  the  Indians  to  Niagara.  To  this  Major 
Gladwyn  answered  that  his  commanding  officer  had 
not  sent  him  there  to  deliver  up  the  fort  to  Indians  or 
anybody  else,  and  he  would,  therefore,  defend  it  as  long 
as  a  single  man  could  stand  at  his  side.  So  day  after  day 
the  Indians  continued  their  attacks  until  their  shrill 
whoops  and  the  rattle  of  their  guns  became  familiar 
sounds.  For  weeks  none  of  the  soldiers  lay  down  to 
sleep,  except  in  their  clothes,  and  their  guns  were  always 
loaded  and  standing  at  their  sides.  The  outbuildings, 
which  gave  shelter  to  the  Indians,  were  burned  down 


170         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

by  volunteers  from  the  palisades,  while  orchard  trees 
and  fences  were  leveled  near  the  fort  so  that  the  savage 
enemy  had  no  cover  to  shelter  him.  Still,  worming 
themselves  along  in  the  grass,  the  savages  would  crawl 
close  to  the  bastions,  and  shoot  arrows,  tipped  with 
burning  tow,  upon  the  roofs  of  the  houses.  Tanks  of 
water  were  everywhere  provided  for  fire,  and,  although 
the  thatched  roofs  were  frequently  alight,  they  were 
always  extinguished  before  the  blaze  had  any  headway. 

Pontiac  was  furious  with  anger  at  not  reducing  the 
fort,  and  begged  the  French  inhabitants  to  teach  him  the 
foreign  method  of  making  ditches  and  trenches  in  order 
to  approach  a  fortification,  under  cover.  But  the  ig 
norant  Canadians  knew  nothing  of  civilized  warfare  and 
could  not  aid  him.  One  hundred  and  twenty  Ojibwa 
warriors  now  joined  the  forces  of  Pontiac  and  assisted 
in  the  attack,  while  every  man  in  the  fort  slept  upon  the 
ramparts,  even  in  the  stormiest  of  weather,  and  repelled 
every  attempt  of  the  savages  to  rush  the  defenses. 

Pontiac  had  a  friend,  called  Baby — a  French  Canadian 
— who  lived  near  by,  and,  one  evening,  he  entered  his 
house,  seated  himself  before  the  fire  and  looked  steadily 
at  the  glowing  embers  for  a  long  time.  At  length,  raising 
his  head,  he  said:  "  Friend,  I  have  heard  that  the  English 
have  offered  you  a  bushel  of  silver  for  my  scalp.  Is  it 
true?"  "The  story  is  false,"  replied  the  Canadian.  "I 
will  never  betray  you,  for  an  instant."  The  Chief  of 
the  Ottawas  keenly  studied  the  features  of  the  white 
man  for  a  number  of  minutes.  "  My  brother  has  spoken 
the  truth,"  he  said,  "and  I  will  show  that  I  believe  him 
by  spending  the  night  at  his  house."  So  saying,  he 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   171 

wrapped  himself  in  his  blanket,  lay  down  upon  a  bench, 
and  slept  peacefully  until  the  morning,  with  perfect 
confidence  that  no  harm  would  be  done  him;  which 
proves  that,  although  cruel  and  vindictive,  he  had  trust 
and  confidence  in  his  friends. 

Another  anecdote  also  shows  that  his  trust  in  his 
friends  was  sincere  and  absolute.  Shortly  after  the 
beginning  of  the  siege  a  Captain  Rogers  came  up  to 
Detroit,  with  a  detachment  of  troops,  and  on  landing 
sent  a  bottle  of  brandy,  by  a  friendly  Indian,  as  a  present 
to  Pontiac — an  old-time  friend  and  acquaintance. 
The  Ottawas  were  always  suspicious  that  the  English 
meant  to  poison  them,  and  so  those  around  the  great 
chief  endeavored  to  persuade  him  that  the  brandy  was 
drugged.  Pontiac  quietly  listened  to  what  they  had 
to  say,  and,  as  they  ceased  speaking,  replied:  "I  have 
saved  this  man  Rogers'  life.  No  man  whose  life  I  have 
saved  has  the  power  to  kill  me,  for  when  he  and  his  men 
came,  not  many  moons  ago,  to  demand  the  surrender 
of  Detroit  from  the  French,  I  kept  my  Indians  from  at 
tacking  him.  He  knows  this."  So  saying,  he  immedi 
ately  drank  the  brandy,  which,  of  course,  was  perfectly 
pure,  and  from  which  he  suffered  no  evil  effects. 

Not  long  after  his  conversation  with  the  Canadian, 
Pontiac  discovered  that  a  few  of  the  young  Wyandot 
braves  were  stealing  his  white  friend's  hogs  and  cattle, 
under  cover  of  the  darkness.  He  consequently  decided 
to  put  an  end  to  these  depredations,  and,  arriving  at  the 
white  man's  home  one  evening,  he  walked  to  and  fro, 
among  the  barns  and  enclosures,  waiting  for  a  sight  of 
the  marauders.  Nothing  occurred  until  late  in  the 


172         FAMOUS   INDIAN.  CHIEFS 

evening,  when,  looking  keenly  through  the  blackness, 
the  great  Sachem  of  the  Ottawas  saw  the  dark  forms  of 
the  thieves  stealing  through  the  gloom.  At  this  he 
walked  up  near  to  them,  and  thundered  in  fierce  tones: 
"Go  back  to  your  village,  you  Wyandot  dogs.  If  you 
tread  again  on  this  man's  land  you  shall  die!"  The 
Wyandots  trembled,  and  slunk  away  abashed,  while, 
from  then  on,  the  Canadian's  property  was  no  longer 
molested.  This  well  illustrates  the  power  which  Pontiac 
exercised  over  the  minds  of  his  followers. 

While  perils  were  thickening  around  the  brave  gar 
rison  at  Detroit,  the  allied  Indians  had,  meanwhile,  not 
been  idle.  Late  one  afternoon  the  soldiers  of  the  gar 
rison  were  startled  by  seeing  a  naked  line  of  warriors 
issuing  from  the  woods  near  the  fort,  each  painted 
black  and  with  a  scalp  fluttering  from  the  end  of  a  pole. 
They  dismally  howled  a  death  wail  and  shook  their 
sticks  at  the  fort,  which  made  it  only  too  clear  that  some 
new  disaster  had  befallen  the  English.  Such  was  the 
truth,  for  at  nightfall  a  Canadian  came  to  the  gate  with 
tidings  that  Fort  Sandusky  had  been  taken  and  that  all 
the  garrison  there  had  either  been  slain  or  made  captive. 

It  seems  that — on  the  sixteenth  of  May — the  com 
mandant  of  the  Fort  (Ensign  Paully)  had  been  informed 
that  seven  Indians  were  at  the  gate  to  speak  to  him,  and, 
as  several  of  them  were  known  to  him,  he  ordered  them 
to  be  admitted.  Arriving  at  his  quarters,  two  of  the 
visitors  seated  themselves  on  either  side  of  him,  while  the 
rest  dispersed  themselves  around  the  room.  Pipes 
were  lighted,  and  the  conversation  began,  when  an  Indian 
near  the  doorway  suddenly  made  a  signal  with  his  head. 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   173 

In  a  moment  Paully  was  captured  and  bound,  while  the 
entire  garrison  was  shot  down.  The  savages,  conduct 
ing  him  to  a  canoe,  soon  set  fire  to  the  fort  and  burned 
it  to  the  ground.  Paully  was  adopted  by  a  widow  of  the 
tribe,  but  subsequently  made  his  escape  and  joined  the 
defenders  of  Detroit. 

The  port  of  St.  Josephs  lay  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
of  that  name  near  the  head  of  Lake  Michigan,  and  the 
fort,  recently  abandoned  by  the  French,  was  garrisoned 
by  Ensign  Schlosser,  with  a  command  of  fourteen  men — 
a  mere  handful  in  the  heart  of  a  wilderness  swarming 
with  enemies.  Thus,  when  a  large  force  of  Potta- 
wattamies  of  Detroit  came  to  have  a  friendly  "talk," 
Schlosser  was  on  his  guard,  for  he  feared  treachery. 
But  this  did  him  no  good.  The  sentinel  at  the  gate  was 
tomahawked,  the  Indians  rushed  into  the  fort,  eleven 
Englishmen  were  killed,  and  the  rest  were  made  prison 
ers.  They  were  conducted  to  Detroit,  where  Schlosser 
and  three  soldiers  were  exchanged  for  an  equal  number 
of  Indian  captives  who  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
garrison.  This  news  was  followed  by  the  announcement 
that  Fort  Miami  had  also  capitulated  to  the  Indians, 
while  painted  warriors  passing  along  the  opposite  bank 
in  great  numbers — a  short  time  afterwards — announced 
by  their  yells  that  Presqu'  Isle  had  also  succumbed  to 
their  treachery.  Le  Boeuf,  Venango,  and  Michillimack- 
inac  likewise  capitulated,  and  only  Detroit  and  Fort 
Pitt,  in  Pennsylvania,  held  out  against  the  fury  of  Chief 
Pontiac  and  his  confederacy. 

The  fate  of  Michillimackinac  was  particularly  depress 
ing,  as  the  garrison  there  had  been  a  good  one  of  about 


174         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

thirty-five  men,  with  their  officers.  The  Commandant — 
Captain  Etherington — had  been  told  by  a  Canadian 
trader  that  the  Indian  had  formed  a  design  to  destroy, 
not  only  his  garrison,  but  all  the  English  on  the  lakes, 
but  to  this  he  not  only  turned  a  deaf  ear,  but  also 
threatened  to  send  prisoner  to  Detroit  the  next  person 
who  should  disturb  him  with  such  tidings.  Therefore, 
the  fate  which  awaited  him  could  possibly  have  been 
averted  had  he  not  shown  the  same  contempt  for  danger 
that  lured  many  an  Englishman  upon  the  frontier  to 
his  doom. 

The  fourth  of  June  was  a  warm  and  sultry  day,  and, 
as  it  was  the  birthday  of  King  George  of  England,  the 
discipline  of  the  garrison  was  relaxed.  Many  of  the 
soldiers  were  allowed  to  go  outside  the  palisade,  leaving 
just  enough  behind  to  act  as  sentinels  and  patrols  in  the 
fort.  Encamped  in  the  woods,  not  far  distant,  were  a 
large  number  of  Ojibwas  and  Sacs,  who,  early  in  the 
morning,  informed  the  soldiers  that  they  were  to  play 
a  game  of  baggattaway,  or  lacrosse.  The  British  were 
invited  to  come  out  and  view  the  game,  and,  in  conse 
quence,  the  fort  was  soon  deserted.  Captain  Ethering 
ton  stood  near  the  gate  talking  to  some  Indian  chiefs. 
The  soldiers  stood — for  the  most  part  unarmed — in  the 
shadow  of  the  palisades,  while  a  number  of  Indian 
squaws,  wrapped  in  blankets,  lounged  near  the  entrance 
to  the  fort.  Hundreds  of  lithe  warriors  rushed  about 
the  plain,  with  bats  in  their  hands,  endeavoring  to 
catch  the  ball  and  hurl  it  through  their  adversaries' 
goal,  while  their  whoops  and  yells  were  mingled  with 
the  cheers  of  the  eager  spectators. 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   175 

Thus  the  game  continued,  when  suddenly,  from  the 
midst  of  the  multitude,  the  ball  soared  into  the  air,  and, 
descending  in  a  wide  curve,  fell  near  the  doorway  of  the 
fort.  Immediately  the  entire  mass  of  whooping  savages 
had  followed  it,  and,  as  they  dashed  to  the  doorway, 
their  shrill  cries  were  turned  to  the  death-bringing 
war  whoop.  This  was  not  a  hasty  assault.  It  was  a 
preconceived  stratagem  to  surprise  and  destroy  the 
unsuspecting  British  troops.  And,  as  the  ball-players 
ran  by  their  women,  they  snatched  the  hatchets  which 
the  latter  had  concealed  beneath  their  blankets.  The 
startled  English  had  no  time  to  run  and  seize  their 
muskets.  They  were  struck  down  by  the  enfuriated 
warriors,  butchered  upon  the  spot,  and  soon  the  quiet 
parade  ground  was  red  with  the  blood  of  the  defenseless 
garrison.  Thus  the  fate  of  Michillimackinac  was  similar 
to  that  of  every  other  fortification  upon  the  Great  Lakes. 

Meanwhile  the  garrison  at  Detroit  was  eagerly  await 
ing  the  arrival  of  reinforcements  from  Fort  Niagara. 
The  siege  was  being  so  vigorously  pushed  that  soldiers, 
merchants,  and  servants  were  upon  the  ramparts  every 
night,  no  one  sleeping  in  a  house,  except  the  sick  and 
wounded  in  the  hospital.  Naturally,  then,  they  were 
much  overjoyed  when — on  May  30th — the  English 
sentinel  on  duty  announced  that  a  fleet  of  boats  was 
coming  around  the  point,  at  a  place  called  the  Huron 
Church.  The  garrison  flocked  to  the  bastions,  and,  for 
a  moment,  hope  shone  upon  the  haggard  countenances 
of  all.  But,  as  the  boats  drew  nearer,  the  Indian  death- 
cry  sounded  from  them,  and  they  were  seen  to  be  full 
of  painted  warriors  instead  of  white  troops.  Then 


176         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  fact  dawned  upon  the  defenders  of  Detroit — the 
detachment  had  been  captured  by  the  followers  of 
Pontiac. 

This  was  the  truth,  for,  their  approach  having  been 
ascertained  by  the  great  leader,  he  had  stationed  a  body 
of  warriors  to  intercept  the  progress  of  the  relieving 
party  at  Point  Pelee.  Twenty  small  batteaux,  manned 
with  a  considerable  number  of  soldiers  and  laden  with 
stores,  landed  here  in  the  evening.  The  Indians  watched 
their  movements  from  the  brush  and  fell  upon  them 
about  daylight.  One  officer  and  thirty  men  escaped 
upon  the  lake,  but  the  others  were  either  killed  or  cap 
tured.  The  line  of  barges  ascended  the  Detroit  River 
near  the  opposite  shore,  escorted  by  the  Indians  on  the 
bank  and  guarded  by  detachments  in  each  boat,  in  full 
view  of  the  garrison  and  of  the  French  settlement 
near  by. 

In  the  foremost  boat  were  four  soldiers  and  only  three 
savages,  and,  as  the  shallop  came  opposite  the  larger  of 
the  two  sloops  which  lay  anchored  before  the  fort,  the 
one  who  acted  as  steersman  determined  to  escape.  He 
called  out  in  English  to  his  companion,  who  was  near  one 
of  the  Indians,  and  told  him  to  throw  the  Indian  over 
board.  The  soldier  answered  that  he  was  not  strong 
enough;  whereupon  the  steersman  directed  him  to 
change  places  with  him,  as  if  tired  out  from  rowing,  so 
that  no  suspicion  would  be  excited  in  the  minds  of  the 
guard.  The  soldier  who  had  conceived  the  plot  now 
slipped  forward,  as  if  to  take  his  companion's  oar,  but, 
instead  of  doing  so,  he  suddenly  seized  the  Indian  by 
the  hair,  and,  gripping  him  by  the  waist  with  the  other 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON    177 

hand,  lifted  him  from  the  seat  and  threw  him  into  the 
river.  As  the  savage  shot  out  over  the  gunwale,  he 
seized  fast  to  the  clothes  of  the  soldier,  and,  drawing  him 
self  up  out  of  the  water,  stabbed  him  again  and  again 
with  his  knife.  This  knocked  the  Englishman  over 
board,  and,  holding  fast  to  the  redskin,  both  went  down 
the  current,  rising  and  sinking  in  the  swift  tide,  and 
grappling  in  the  embrace  of  death.  Meanwhile  the  two 
other  Indians  had  leaped  out  of  the  boat,  while  the  sol 
diers  turned  about,  and  pulled  for  the  neighboring  vessel, 
crying  aloud  for  assistance  as  they  did  so.  But  the  In 
dians  in  the  other  canoes  came  after  them  in  hot  pursuit, 
while  the  followers  of  Pontiac  on  the  bank  kept  up  a  rapid 
fire  upon  them  with  their  muskets.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
must  be  captured,  for  the  bullets  hissed  about  their  heads 
and  the  birchbark  canoes  gained  upon  them  with  every 
thrust  of  the  paddle.  Escape  seemed  impossible,  when 
suddenly  a  cannon  blazed  from  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and 
a  ball,  flying  past  the  boat,  just  escaped  hitting  the  fore 
most  canoe.  This  was  enough  for  the  Indians.  They 
withdrew  in  fear  and  dismay;  while  a  second  ball,  ex 
ploding  among  the  warriors  on  the  shore,  made  them 
take  to  the  bushes.  With  a  few  lusty  heaves  the  soldiers 
reached  the  side  of  the  vessel  where  they  were  warmly 
greeted,  as  men  coming  from  the  jaws  of  death,  and  as  a 
living  monument  to  the  old  adage  that  "  Fortune  favors 
the  brave."  Lest  the  other  prisoners  might  escape,  they 
were  immediately  landed  by  the  Indians,  and  were 
marched  to  a  point  well  beyond  the  view  of  the  garrison 
at  Detroit.  In  the  morning  their  scarred  and  mutilated 
bodies  began  to  float  by  the  fort,  on  the  surface  of  the 


178         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

water,  warning  the  soldiers  what  would  be  their  fate, 
should  they  fail  to  hold  out  against  the  ferocious  war 
riors  of  Pontiac's  Confederacy. 

During  the  month  of  June  another  attempt  to  relieve 
the  garrison  proved  to  be  more  successful  than  the  last. 
One  of  the  two  vessels,  anchored  near  the  fort,  had  been 
sent  to  Niagara  for  men  and  for  supplies.  She  had  a 
safe  passage,  and,  before  long,  arrived  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river  with  about  fifty  soldiers  on  board,  and  a  goodly 
supply  of  stores.  The  Indians  saw  her  coming  up  the 
stream,  realized  that  they  must  sink  her  if  they  could, 
and  consequently  surrounded  her  in  their  canoes  and 
pumped  lead  at  her  sides,  as  if  they  hoped  to  scuttle  her 
with  bullet  holes.  But  the  vessel  kept  on,  until  it 
reached  a  very  narrow  part  of  the  river  where  the  wind 
died  away,  and  so  the  anchor  was  dropped.  Immedi 
ately  above  this  place  the  Indians  had  made  a  breast 
work  of  logs,  carefully  concealed  in  the  bushes,  and  be 
hind  this  they  lay  in  force,  waiting  for  the  schooner  to 
pass.  This  the  crew  were  not  aware  of,  but,  from  the 
moment  the  sun  went  down,  they  kept  a  keen  watch 
upon  the  waters  of  the  river. 

Hours  passed,  the  rapid  current  gurgled  about  the 
bow  of  the  trim  little  vessel,  and  on  either  side  frogs 
croaked  from  the  black  shores  of  the  stream.  Oc 
casionally  a  night  heron  squawked  in  the  marshy  land 
near  by,  but  nothing  else  disturbed  the  peace  and  quiet 
of  the  night.  Suddenly  the  sentry  started  to  his  feet,  for 
dark  forms  were  seen  moving  upon  the  surface  of  the 
stream.  " Indians!  Indians!"  he  whispered,  and,  in  a 
moment,  the  decks  were  crowded  with  soldiers,  armed 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   179 

to  the  teeth.  Meanwhile  hundreds  of  canoes  crept  to 
wards  the  vessel,  and  were  within  a  few  rods  of  their 
fancied  prize,  when  a  blow  from  a  hammer  sounded  upon 
the  foremast  of  the  British  boat.  It  was  the  signal  to 
fire.  Immediately  a  dull  roar  sounded  through  the  still 
night,  the  sides  of  the  vessel  burst  into  a  blaze  of  sheeted 
flame,  and  grape  and  musket  shot  tore  into  the  clustering- 
line  of  canoes.  Fierce  yells  of  pain  and  chagrin  welled 
into  the  air  as  canoe  after  canoe  sank  before  the  fusillade, 
and,  with  fourteen  of  their  number  dead  and  dying,  the 
remaining  braves  turned  about  and  fled  precipitously. 
But  their  friends  opened  a  brisk  fire  from  their  log 
breastwork,  so  the  vessel  weighed  anchor  and  dropped 
down  stream  with  the  current.  When  it  again  threw 
out  the  chain  and  swivel,  not  an  Indian  was  to  be  seen. 
For  six  days  the  vessel  had  to  remain  where  she  was, 
until  a  wind  sprang  up  which  was  sufficiently  strong  to 
blow  her  up  stream.  So  sails  were  hoisted  and  she 
tacked  between  the  shores  until  the  fort  was  reached. 
As  she  passed  the  Wyandot  village  the  guns  were  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  wigwams,  a  shower  of  grapeshot  was 
fired  among  them,  and,  before  the  yelling  savages 
were  fully  aware  of  the  nearness  of  the  schooner,  many 
of  them  had  been  struck  down.  The  rest  ran  off,  yelping 
like  a  band  of  those  cur-dogs  which  follow  every  Indian 
encampment,  and  quickly  scurried  to  the  protection  of 
the  forest,  while  the  welcome  vessel  furled  her  sails 
abreast  of  the  fort  and  came  peacefully  to  anchor. 
She  brought  much-needed  ammunition  and  supplies, 
and  the  tidings  that  peace  had,  at  last,  been  declared  be 
tween  France  and  England.  This  was  heartily  cheered 


180         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

by  the  brave  defenders  of  Detroit,  for  now,  with  fresh 
supplies,  more  soldiers,  and  the  renewed  confidence 
which  these  could  bring,  they  looked  more  cheerfully 
into  the  future.  They  were  still  in  grave  peril,  and 
brave  Major  Gladwyn  still  counselled  his  men  to  use 
every  care  in  watching  the  savages,  both  by  night  and 
by  day,  for  their  death  chants  sounded  from  the  edge 
of  the  forest  most  ominously. 

As  Pontiac  watched  the  frowning  palisades  which 
he  could  not  subdue,  his  heart  was  black  with  anger. 
"You  must  destroy  those  boats  of  the  English/'  said  he 
to  his  followers.  "When  they  are  gone,  we  can  starve 
the  white  men  out;  but  we  must  sink  or  burn  them." 
So  the  Ottawas  speedily  constructed  a  raft  formed  of 
two  boats,  secured  together  with  a  rope  and  filled  with 
pitch  pine,  birch  bark,  and  other  easily  lighted  wood. 
This  they  set  on  fire,  on  the  night  of  the  tenth  of  July, 
and  shoving  it  well  out  into  the  current  with  their 
canoes,  watched  it  as  it  floated  down  upon  the  schooners, 
anchored  before  the  fort.  The  soldiers  saw  the  blazing 
peril  as  it  journeyed  slowly  towards  them  and  prepared 
themselves  with  boat  hooks,  oars,  and  buckets,  to  meet 
it,  but  a  fortunate  gust  of  wind  blew  the  burning  pile  out 
into  the  stream,  and  it  sailed  by  the  two  vessels,  well 
beyond  their  bowsprits.  A  cheer  went  up  from  those 
upon  the  decks  as  the  sputtering,  gleaming  mass  floated 
slowly  out  of  harm's  way,  lighting  up  the  shores  with  an 
ominous  and  sinister  glare,  plainly  revealing  the  white 
houses  of  the  Canadian  settlers  on  the  banks.  Far 
down  the  stream  the  fire  was  extinguished  with  a  dull 
and  sickening  hiss. 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   181 

But  this  was  not  the  only  attempt  which  the  Indians 
made  to  put  an  end  to  the  two  schooners,  for,  upon  the 
morning  of  July  twelfth,  the  sentinel  on  duty  saw  a 
glowing  spark  of  fire  on  the  surface  of  the  river,  and  soon 
another  blazing  raft  bore  down  upon  the  vessels  and  their 
startled  crews.  The  men  watched  the  oncoming  blaze 
with  no  particular  terror,  as  they  knew  that  they  could 
push  aside  the  burning  logs  with  sticks  and  boat  hooks, 
but  they  had  no  necessity  to  do  this,  as  the  raft  was 
driven  over  towards  the  fort  by  the  swift  current,  and 
glided  swiftly  by,  lighting  up  the  dark  shores  as  it 
did  so,  disclosing  the  dusky  forms  of  many  naked 
spectators  who  stood  there,  expectantly  awaiting  the 
burning  of  the  hated  vessels.  A  gunner  trained  one  of 
the  cannon  upon  them  in  the  bright  light.  Suddenly, 
with  a  deep  boom,  an  iron  ball  crashed  among  the  fol 
lowers  of  Pontiac,  who,  with  wild  yells  of  defiance, 
dashed  into  the  brush.  The  soldiers  laughed  derisively 
as  their  forms  retreated  into  the  gloom  and  burst  into  a 
song  of  jollification  as  the  raft  burned  to  the  water's 
edge  and  the  last  gleaming  spark  was  extinguished  by 
the  black  waters  of  the  rushing  stream. 

Soon  after  the  failure  of  this  affair,  the  savages  were 
busily  seen  constructing  another  raft  of  larger  dimen 
sions.  The  gallant  Major  in  charge  of  Detroit  was  now 
determined  to  protect  his  vessels  from  further  harm, 
and  so  procured  a  number  of  boats  which  he  moored 
across  the  stream  with  hawsers,  at  some  distance  above 
the  schooners,  so  that  if  any  rafts  should  drop  down  the 
river  they  would  lodge  against  these  before  they  struck 
the  sides  of  the  two  vessels.  When  the  followers  of 


182         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Pontiac  saw  this  they  were  very  angry  and  it  is  said  that 
they  stood  upon  the  shores  and  shook  their  clenched 
fists  vindictively  at  the  soldiers,  for  they  now  saw  that 
their  attempts  to  burn  the  vessels  would  be  fruitless. 
Pontiac,  himself,  was  somewhat  disheartened  at  the  turn 
which  affairs  were  taking,  but  his  heart  was  cheered,  a 
few  days  later,  by  the  appearance  of  an  Abenaki  brave 
from  lower  Canada  who  told  him  that  the  King  of  France 
— the  Indians'  Great  Father — was  advancing  up  the 
St.  Lawrence  River  with  a  large  and  formidable  army. 
This  untruth  was  believed  by  the  leader  of  the  uprising, 
and,  when  a  body  of  Wyandot  warriors  came  in,  not  long 
afterwards,  with  the  news  that  every  English  fortifi 
cation,  save  that  of  Fort  Du  Quesne,  had  fallen  before 
the  onslaughts  of  the  savages,  the  heart  of  Pontiac  was 
glad,  and  he  bitterly  upbraided  his  own  followers  for  not 
having  sufficient  courage  to  subdue  the  handful  of  Eng 
lishmen  and  trappers  in  Detroit. 

Really  the  Indians  had  done  well,  for  they  had  per 
sisted  in  the  siege  for  two  full  months,  which  was  an 
extraordinarily  long  time  for  savages  to  remain  constant 
to  anything.  Their  usual  method  was  to  make  a  quick 
attack  and  to  then  retreat,  if  unsuccessful.  Yet  here— 
under  guidance  of  the  Great  Pontiac — they  had  steadily 
persevered  in  hemming  in  the  doughty  garrison  for  a 
long  and  tedious  period  of  from  between  two  to  three 
months.  The  only  way  in  which  they  could  possibly 
subdue  the  English  would  be  by  scaling  the  palisades, 
and,  although  they  twice  attempted  this  feat,  none  had 
the  courage  to  complete  the  task  after  the  garrison  be 
gan  to  pour  hot  volleys  into  the  ranks  of  the  attackers. 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   183 

Pontiac,  himself,  should  have  led  the  advance,  but  even 
he  did  not  have  sufficient  nerve  to  mount  the  log  breast 
works  of  Detroit. 

What  the  spirit  of  the  doughty  Gladwyn  was  on  this 
occasion  is  easily  seen  from  the  following  letter.  On 
July  the  ninth  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in  the  East,  and 
his  missive  was  carried  past  the  Indians  by  a  trusty 
scout. 

"You  have  long  ago  heard  of  our  pleasant  situation. 
Was  it  not  very  agreeable  to  hear  every  day  of  the 
savages  cutting,  carving,  boiling,  and  eating  our  com 
panions?  To  see  every  day  dead  bodies  floating  down 
the  river,  mangled  and  disfigured?  But  Britons,  you 
know,  never  shrink ;  we  always  appeared  gay,  to  spite  the 
rascals.  They  boiled  and  eat  Sir  Robert  Deras,  and  we 
are  informed  by  Mr.  Paully,  who  escaped  the  other  day 
from  one  of  the  stations — surprised  at  the  breaking  out 
of  the  war,  and  commanded  by  himself — that  he  had  seen 
an  Indian  have  the  skin  of  Captain  Robertson's  arm  for 
a  tobacco  pouch. 

"Three  days  ago,  a  party  of  us  went  to  demolish  a 
breastwork  they  had  made.  We  finished  our  work  and 
were  returning  home,  but  the  fort  espying  a  party  of 
Indians  coming  up,  as  if  they  intended  to  fight,  we  were 
ordered  back,  made  our  dispositions,  and  advanced 
briskly.  Our  front  was  fired  upon  warmly  and  we 
returned  the  fire  for  about  five  minutes.  In  the  mean 
time,  Captain  Hobkins,  with  about  twenty  men,  filed 
off  to  the  left,  and  about  twenty  French  volunteers  filed 
off  to  the  right,  and  got  between  them  and  their  fires. 
The  villains  immediately  fled,  and  we  returned,  as  was 


184         FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

prudent;  for  a  sentry  I  had  placed  behind  me  informed 
me  that  he  saw  a  body  of  them  coming  down  the  woods, 
and  our  party,  being  about  eighty,  was  not  able  to  cope 
with  their  united  bands.  In  short,  we  beat  them 
handsomely,  and  yet  did  not  much  hurt  to  them,  for 
they  ran  extremely  well.  We  only  killed  their  leader 
and  wounded  three  others.  One  of  them  fired  at  me 
at  the  distance  of  fifteen  or  twenty  paces,  but  I  suppose 
my  terrible  visage  made  him  tremble.  I  think  I  shot 
him." 

Gladwyn  says:  " Britons,  you  know,  never  shrink/' 
and,  in  this  one  phrase  lies  the  secret  of  the  white  man's 
success  against  the  redskins.  For,  with  order,  knowl 
edge  of  firearms,  the  construction  of  fortifications, 
houses,  and  redoubts,  and  obedience  to  the  commands 
of  their  officers,  this  mere  handful  of  soldiers  had  been 
able  to  stand  off  the  overwhelming  masses  of  the  enemy 
with  apparent  ease.  Then,  too,  combined  with  a  knowl 
edge  of  fighting,  they  possessed  the  spirit  which  "never 
shrank."  Their  hearts  were  big  with  courage — that 
courage  for  which  the  Britons  have  always  been  noted: 
that  bulldog  courage  which  carried  them  up  the  sides 
of  Bunker  Hill  right  into  the  bullets  of  the  American 
forces,  although  they  could  have  easily  conquered  their 
opponents  by  an  advance  upon  the  right  flank;  that 
resolution  which  later  on  was  to  sacrifice  numberless 
brave  men  at  Modder  River  and  Spion  Kop  in  South 
Africa  needlessly,  and,  to  our  way  of  thinking,  unin- 
telligently.  For  here,  as  at  Bunker  Hill,  red-coated 
and  tartaned  British  soldiers  marched  courageously 
and  firmly,  straight  up  to  the  breastworks  of  the  enemy, 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   185 

there  to  be  mown  down  by  thousands,  when  a  flanking 
movement  could  easily  have  dislodged  the  foe.  One 
cannot  fail  to  admire  such  bravery,  for,  like  Burnsides' 
frontal  attack  at  Fredericksburg  during  the  Civil  War 
in  America,  such  courage  is  great  and  awe-inspiring, 
but  ill-advised.  We  are  thrilled  by  it,  yet  we  cannot 
applaud. 

While  the  siege  progressed  at  Detroit,  a  force  gathered 
at  Niagara  to  relieve  the  garrison,  and,  in  the  mean 
while,  the  Indians  made  a  violent  and  fierce  attack  upon 
the  fortifications  upon  the  New  York  and  Pennsylvania 
frontier.  Fort  Le  Boeuf  and  Fort  Venango  fell  before 
the  wiles  of  the  savages  and  only  their  smouldering 
ruins  marked  where  traders,  soldiers,  homesteaders, 
and  red  men  had  once  congregated  in  apparent  peace 
and  good  will.  At  Fort  Pitt  (formerly  Fort  Du  Quesne), 
every  preparation  was  made  for  an  attack  from  the 
Indians. 

This  formidable  stockade  (where  now  is  the  city  of 
Pittsburg)  had  three  hundred  and  thirty  soldiers, 
traders,  and  hardy  backwoodsmen  in  the  garrison,  with 
numbers  of  women  and  children.  In  command  was 
Captain  Simeon  Ecuyer,  a  brave  Swiss  officer  who  had 
enlisted  with  the  British  and  who  was  as  doughty  a 
warrior  as  the  stubborn  Gladwyn, — and  with  an  equal 
contempt  for  the  red  men.  "I  believe  from  what  I 
hear  that  I  am  surrounded  by  Indians/7  he  wrote  to  his 
commanding  officer  in  the  settlements,  two  hundred 
miles  away.  "I  tremble  for  our  outposts.  I  neglect 
nothing  to  give  them  a  good  reception,  and  I  expect 
to  be  attacked  tomorrow  morning.  Please  God  I  may 


186         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

be,  I  am  fairly  well  prepared.  Everybody  is  at  work, 
and  I  do  not  sleep;  but  I  tremble  lest  my  messenger 
should  be  cut  off."  Well  might  he  tremble,  for  the 
Tuscaroras  and  the  Delawares  were  gathering  in  force 
to  attack  the  fort,  burn  it  to  the  ground,  and,  if  possible, 
to  massacre  the  captured  garrison.  Rumors  of  terrible 
outrages  upon  the  settlers  came  hourly  to  the  ears  of 
the  startled  soldiers.  Men,  women  and  children  flocked 
to  the  protection  of  the  walls  of  the  fort,  while  it  became 
dangerous  to  venture  outside  the  palisades,  as  the  few 
who  did  were  shot  and  scalped  by  lurking  Indians.  All 
night  the  savages  fired  upon  the  sentinels,  and  soon 
during  the  day  no  one  dared  to  put  his  head  above  the 
rampart,  because  of  the  hidden  redskins  on  the  edge 
of  the  forest.  It  was  apparent  that  the  surrounding 
woods  were  full  of  Indians,  whose  numbers  daily  in 
creased,  though  they  made  no  attempt  at  a  general 
attack  upon  the  frowning  log  walls  of  Fort  Pitt,  where, 
with  courage,  cheer,  and  resolution,  those  within  waited 
for  the  onslaught  which  they  knew  to  be  at  hand. 

Finally,  on  a  bright  June  day,  numbers  of  painted 
warriors  appeared  in  the  cleared  lands  behind  the  fort, 
drove  off  the  horses  which  were  grazing  there,  killed  a 
herd  of  cattle  belonging  to  the  soldiers,  and  then  began 
a  hot  fire  at  the  stockades,  which  soon  broke  with  a  dull 
roar  from  every  thicket  of  the  forest.  In  reply,  the 
garrison  turned  some  howitzers  upon  the  woodland, 
touched  them  off,  and,  as  the  iron  shells  burst  in  the 
dense  underbrush  with  a  loud  and  ominous  report,  the 
frightened  red  men  could  be  seen  scurrying  out  of 
harm's  way,  in  every  direction.  The  day  wore  to  a 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   187 

close,  and,  as  darkness  settled  upon  the  forest,  the  flashes 
from  the  guns  of  the  Indians  grew  less;  gradually  their 
weird  war  whoops  melted  away,  and  in  their  place 
sounded  the  shrill  piping  of  frogs.  As  darkness  came, 
occasionally  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  warned  the  senti 
nels  on  the  ramparts  that  the  savages  were  still  upon 
the  alert. 

Next  morning  gallant  Ecuyer  was  watching  the  wood 
land  through  a  glass,  when  several  painted  warriors 
strode  from  the  shade  of  the  trees  to  the  ditch  beyond 
the  palisades.  One  of  them  stepped  forward,  and, 
proclaiming  that  he  was  a  great  chief  of  the  Delawares 
called  Turtle's  Heart,  addressed  the  garrison  with  the 
following  words: 

"My  brothers,  we  that  stand  here  are  your  friends; 
but  we  have  bad  news  to  tell  you.  Six  great  nations 
of  Indians  have  taken  up  the  hatchet,  and  have  cut  off 
all  the  English  garrisons,  excepting  yours.  They  are 
now  on  their  way  to  destroy  you  also. 

"My  brothers,  we  are  your  friends,  and  we  wish  to 
save  your  lives.  What  we  desire  you  to  do  is  this: 
You  must  leave  this  fort,  with  all  your  women  and 
children,  and  go  down  to  the  English  settlements,  where 
you  will  be  safe.  There  are  msmy  bad  Indians  already 
here,  but  we  will  protect  you  from  them.  You  must  go 
at  once,  because  if  you  wait  till  the  six  nations  arrive 
here,  you  will  all  be  killed,  and  we  can  do  nothing  to 
protect  you." 

Certainly  this  was  a  bold  proposal  to  an  old  war- 
horse  like  Ecuyer,  and,  like  a  true  English  bulldog,  he 
voiced  a  reply  which  made  the  Indians  wince.  He 


188         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

spoke  in  loud  and  eloquent  tones,  so  that  all  could  not 
fail  to  hear  him. 

"My  brothers,"  said  he,  "we  are  very  grateful  for 
your  kindness,  though  we  are  convinced  that  you  must 
be  mistaken  in  what  you  have  told  us  about  the  forts 
being  captured.  As  for  ourselves,  we  have  plenty  of 
provisions,  and  are  able  to  keep  the  fort  against  all  the 
nations  of  Indians  that  may  dare  to  attack  it.  We  are 
very  well  off  in  this  place,  and  we  mean  to  stay  here. 

"My  brothers,  as  you  have  shown  yourselves  such 
true  friends,  we  feel  bound  in  gratitude  to  inform  you 
that  an  army  of  six  thousand  English  will  shortly  arrive 
here,  and  that  another  army  of  three  thousand  is  gone 
up  the  lakes  to  punish  the  Ottawas  and  Ojibwas.  A 
third  has  gone  to  the  frontiers  of  Virginia,  where  they 
will  be  joined  by  your  enemies,  the  Cherokees  and 
Catawbas,  who  are  coming  here  to  destroy  you.  There 
fore,  take  pity  on  your  women  and  children,  and  get  out 
of  the  way  as  soon  as  possible.  We  have  told  you  this 
in  confidence,  out  of  our  great  solicitude  lest  any  of  you 
should  be  hurt,  and  we  hope  that  you  will  not  tell  the 
other  Indians,  lest  they  should  escape  from  our  ven 
geance." 

At  the  close  of  this  speech  the  Indians  withdrew/  but 
it  could  be  easily  seen  that  the  tale  of  the  approach  of 
the  three  armies  had  the  desired  effect,  for  the  faces  of 
some  of  the  braves  showed  fear  and  consternation. 
Next  day  most  of  the  savages  moved  away  from  the 
neighborhood  and  marched  to  meet  a  great  body  of 
warriors  who  were  advancing  from  the  westward  to 
make  an  attack  upon  the  fort,  while  the  garrison  labored 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   189 

with  vim  to  make  the  palisades  shot  proof,  to  fill  up  a 
part  of  the  palisades  which  had  fallen  into  the  ramparts, 
and  to  construct  a  fire  engine,  so  that  any  flames  which 
came  from  the  burning  arrows  of  the  Indians  could  be 
extinguished  with  ease.  But  for  several  weeks  no  at 
tacks  came  from  the  skulking  foes,  although  they  fre 
quently  appeared  in  the  vicinity  of  the  stockade  and 
fired  random  shots  at  the  sentinels.  All  communication 
was  cut  off  with  the  settlements,  and  the  soldiers  nerved 
themselves  for  the  coming  affray  which  they  knew  would 
be  a  desperate  affair. 

Finally,  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  July,  a  small  party 
of  Indians  approached  the  gate  bearing  a  flag  of  truce, 
and  requesting  that  they  be  admitted.  They  were 
brought  inside,  and  again — in  a  long  and  pompous 
address — requested  the  English  to  withdraw,  or  they 
would  be  overwhelmed  by  the  attack  of  their  own 
braves,  assisted  by  Pontiac's  Ottawas.  But,  although 
listening  to  them  with  respect,  Ecuyer  was  not  to  be 
frightened  by  savage  bravado.  "I  have  warriors, 
ammunition,  and  provisions  enough  to  defend  this  place 
for  three  years/'  he  replied,  "and  against  all  the  In 
dians  on  earth.  We  shall  not  abandon  Fort  Pitt  as 
long  as  a  white  man  lives  in  America.  I  despise  the 
Ottawas  of  Pontiac,  and  am  very  much  surprised  at 
our  brothers,  the  Delawares,  for  proposing  to  us  to  leave 
this  place  and  go  home.  This  is  our  home.  You  have 
attacked  us  without  reason  or  provocation.  You  have 
murdered  and  plundered  our  warriors  and  traders; 
you  have  taken  our  horses  and  cattle;  and  at  the  same 
time  you  tell  us  that  your  hearts  are  good  towards  your 


190         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

brethren,  the  English.  How  can  I  have  faith  in  you? 
Therefore,  now,  brothers,  I  will  advise  you  to  go  home 
to  your  towns  and  to  take  care  of  your  wives  and  chil 
dren.  Moreover,  I  tell  you  that  if  any  of  you  appear 
again  about  this  fort,  I  will  throw  bombshells,  which 
will  burst  and  blow  you  to  atoms,  and  I  will  fire  a 
cannon  among  you  loaded  with  a  whole  bag  full  of 
bullets.  Therefore,  take  care,  for  I  don't  want  to 
hurt  you." 

The  chiefs  departed,  glowering  with  anger  and  hatred, 
and  bitterly  disappointed  in  not  gaining  a  bloodless 
possession  of  the  fort,  while  the  men  of  the  garrison 
nerved  themselves  for  the  impending  attack.  On  the 
night  succeeding  the  conference  it  came.  At  dusk,  dark 
forms  could  be  seen  stealing  from  the  edge  of  the  wood 
land.  Hundreds  of  savages  crawled  as  noiselessly  as 
possible  towards  the  log  stockade,  many  of  them  drop 
ping  down  behind  the  banks  of  the  river  and  digging 
holes  in  the  earth  with  their  knives,  so  that  they  could 
be  sheltered  from  the  bullets  from  the  fort.  Silently 
and  surely  they  made  their  line  around  the  palisades, 
and,  when  the  first  flush  of  dawn  reddened  the  East,  a 
wild  war  whoop  announced  that  the  attack  was  to  begin. 
Immediately  a  gruelling  fire  was  opened  upon  the  silent 
walls  of  Fort  Pitt,  bullets  and  arrows  flew  thick  and  fast 
into  the  palisades,  but  hiding  behind  the  stout  log 
breastwork,  the  garrison  paid  little  heed  to  the  rain  of 
shot  and  other  missiles.  Occasionally  a  red  man  would 
expose  his  head  from  one  of  the  holes  in  the  bank,  where 
upon  a  dozen  rifles  would  speak  from  the  stockade,  and 
as  many  bullets  would  whizz  past  the  ears  of  the  wily 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON    191 

brave.  Several  were  hit  and  died  where  they  fell,  and, 
although  the  Royal  American  troops  had  on  the  custom 
ary  red  uniforms  which  offered  a  bright  mark  to  the 
Indians,  not  a  single  one  was  killed.  Ecuyer  ran  among 
his  men,  exhorting  them  to  do  their  best,  and  himself 
firing  a  rifle  from  the  ramparts  at  the  screeching  savages. 
In  broken  English  he  was  yelling  defiance  at  the  red 
skins,  when  an  arrow  hit  him  in  the  leg  and  pierced 
him  through.  Pulling  it  out  immediately,  he  continued 
to  direct  the  fire  of  his  own  men  with  as  much  spirit  as 
before,  and,  when  approached  by  the  backwoodsmen 
with  the  request  that  they  be  allowed  to  make  a  sortie 
against  the  foe,  called  out  with  much  spirit:  "Allow  you 
to  go  outside,  my  hearties?  No,  by  Heaven,  you  are  too 
valuable  to  me  to  permit  me  to  risk  even  one  of  your 
necks  in  the  open.  Fight  here,  my  boys,  and  we'll 
make  good  my  boast  to  the  redskins  that  I  can  hold 
this  fort  against  all  the  Indians  in  the  woods.  Lie  low, 
shoot  straight,  and  when  you  see  an  Indian's  head  be  sure 
that  you  hit  it."  As  he  ceased  speaking  a  burning 
arrow  flew  into  the  stockade  and  ignited  the  roof  of  one 
of  the  houses,  while  the  women  and  children — much 
terrified — rushed  into  the  street  with  wails  of  distress. 
The  savages  fairly  howled  with  joy  when  they  saw  the 
flames  burst  from  the  thatched  roof,  but  water  from 
the  fire  engine  quickly  put  out  the  blaze,  and,  as  several 
of  the  Indians  exposed  themselves  in  order  to  fire  more 
arrows  into  the  fort,  they  were  killed  by  well-directed 
volleys  of  the  Royal  Americans.  As  darkness  shut 
down  upon  the  first  day  of  fighting,  there  had  been 
nothing  accomplished  by  the  besiegers. 


192         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

For  five  days  the  redskins  continued  their  screeching, 
howling,  and  desultory  firing  upon  the  palisades.  As 
at  Detroit,  they  did  not  have  the  heart  to  rush  the  stock 
ade,  and,  as  at  Detroit,  their  irregular  attack  did  little 
damage.  The  troops  enjoyed  the  fun,  shot  carefully 
and  did  some  damage.  "The  redskins  were  well  under 
cover  and  so  were  we,"  wrote  the  gallant  Ecuyer  to 
Sir  Geoffrey  Amherst.  "They  did  us  no  harm:  nobody 
killed,  seven  wounded,  and  I,  myself,  slightly.  Their 
attack  lasted  five  days  and  five  nights.  We  are  certain 
of  having  killed  and  wounded  twenty  of  them,  without 
reckoning  those  we  could  not  see  die.  I  let  nobody  fire 
until  he  had  marked  his  man;  and  not  an  Indian  could 
show  his  nose  without  being  pricked  with  a  bullet,  for 
I  have  some  good  shots  here.  Our  men  are  doing  ad 
mirably,  regulars  and  the  rest.  All  that  they  ask 
is  to  go  out  and  fight.  I  am  fortunate  to  have  the 
honor  of  commanding  such  brave  men.  I  only  wish  the 
Indians  had  ventured  an  assault.  They  would  have 
remembered  it  to  the  thousandth  generation  *  *  * 
I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  they  threw  fire-arrows  to  burn 
our  works,  but  they  could  not  reach  the  buildings,  nor 
even  the  rampart.  Only  two  arrows  came  into  the 
fort,  one  of  which  had  the  insolence  to  make  free  with 
my  left  leg." 

On  the  sixth  day  of  the  attack,  suddenly  the  men  of 
the  garrison  saw  the  Indians  crawling  out  of  their  bur 
rows  in  the  river  bank  and  running  away  to  the  woods. 
As  they  moved  off  they  were  peppered  by  the  shots  of 
the  backwoodsmen  and  Royal  Americans,  who  knocked 
over  two  half-clad  braves  as  they  leaped  from  the 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   193 

waters  of  the  river.  Heavy  firing  could  be  heard  to  the 
southwest,  which  lasted  for  a  short  time  only.  Then 
wild  yells  sounded  from  the  forest  which  seemed  deeper 
and  more  human  than  those  of  the  redskins.  Brave 
Ecuyer  jumped  to  the  top  of  the  stockade  with  a  glass 
in  his  hand  and  eagerly  scanned  the  edge  of  the  timber, 
and,  as  he  did  so,  a  loud  cheer  arose  from  the  defend 
ers  of  Fort  Pitt,  for,  bursting  into  the  open,  came 
the  red  coats  of  British  soldiers,  the  tartans  and  plaids 
of  Highlanders,  the  fringed  buckskin  shirts  of  Virginia 
rangers,  and  a  torn  and  battered  rag  of  a  flag,  half  shot 
away  from  the  pole  to  which  it  was  fastened.  The 
doors  of  the  fort  were  thrown  wide  open,  the  defenders 
made  a  rush  for  the  oncoming  army  of  deliverance,  and, 
before  very  many  moments  the  men  of  Colonel  Bou 
quet's  army — for  such  they  were — were  being  clasped 
in  the  arms  of  the  rough  soldiers  who  had  held  the 
stockade  at  Fort  Pitt.  A  mighty  cheer  welled  into  the 
clear  air,  women  cried,  children  laughed,  and  the  doughty 
Ecuyer  was  seen  to  dance  a  cantata  on  the  walls  of  the 
stockade,  for  the  garrison  was  saved,  and  the  power 
of  Pontiac  in  Pennsylvania  was  irrevocably  broken. 

This  little  force  which  had  come  to  succor  the  be 
leaguered  garrison  on  the  Allegheny  had  just  been 
through  one  of  the  stiffest  fights  in  the  annals  of  Indian 
warfare.  Colonel  Bouquet  had  marched  from  Carlisle, 
Pennsylvania,  a  town  which  was  filled  with  refugees 
from  the  outlying  districts,  ravaged  by  the  friends  and 
allies  of  Pontiac.  His  total  numbers  did  not  exceed 
five  hundred  men,  and  they  were  unused  to  frontier 
warfare,  although  he  himself  had  served  for  seven 


194         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

years  on  the  border  and  knew  how  to  fight  a  redskin 
and  how  to  give  him  measure  for  measure.  When 
they  reached  Fort  Ligonier — forty-five  miles  from  Fort 
Pitt — a  crowd  of  Indians,  who  were  besieging  the  place, 
vanished  into  the  depths  of  the  wood,  and  the  small 
garrison  was  overjoyed  to  be  suddenly  relieved  from 
a  siege  which  had  lasted  over  a  month.  They  had  heard 
nothing  of  Fort  Pitt,  so,  fearing  that  the  oxen  and 
wagons  would  be  greatly  in  the  way  should  he  be  sud 
denly  attacked,  Bouquet  left  them  behind  him,  and 
pressed  onward  to  the  banks  of  a  stream  called  Bushy 
Run.  The  forest  was  deep,  vast,  impenetrable,  wild, 
and  rugged  boulders  impeded  the  progress  of  the  hardy 
troops.  They  marched  compactly  with  scouts  on  either 
flank  to  warn  them  of  any  lurking  foe,  and  a  number 
of  backwoodsmen  thrown  well  out  to  the  front  and  to 
the  rear.  Before  them  was  Turtle  Creek,  a  stream 
flowing  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  hollow,  flanked  by  steep 
precipices,  where  an  ambuscade  could  be  most  effective; 
and,  fearing  this,  Bouquet  decided  to  camp  at  Bushy 
Run  and  to  pass  through  this  gorge  during  the  night, 
when  the  savages  could  not  see  how  to  make  a  formidable 
attack.  So  the  men  pressed  cautiously  on,  feeling  their 
way  and  ever  ready  for  a  brush  with  the  lurking  foe.  It 
was  soon  to  come. 

At  one  o'clock  that  day,  when  the  little  force  was 
within  half  a  mile  of  Bushy  Run,  a  rifle  shot  sounded 
through  the  stillness  of  the  forest,  and  a  wild  yell  far 
to  the  front  was  followed  by  that  volley  for  which  the 
English  had  been  waiting  during  every  hour  of  the  past 
week.  A  rattle  of  musketry  and  a  round  British  cheer 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   195 

showed  that  the  guard  had  been  furiously  attacked, 
so  the  foremost  companies  were  at  once  ordered 
to  rush  forward  and  aid  the  backwoodsmen  of  the 
advance.  As  they  fixed  bayonets  for  the  assault,  a 
tremendous  volley  warned  Bouquet  that  the  enemy  were 
there  in  numbers.  The  troops  were,  therefore,  halted, 
formed  in  line,  and  ordered  to  charge  with  the  bayonet. 
With  a  wild  cheer  they  bore  down  through  the  forest,  ran 
into  a  band  of  yelping  redskins,  and  drove  them, "  screech 
ing  like  wildcats,"  into  the  dim  forest.  But  as  this 
foe  vanished,  a  tremendous  yelling  and  firing  was  heard 
upon  either  flank,  while  cheers,  shots,  and  war  whoops  in 
the  rear  showed  that  the  entire  force  was  attacked, 
and  that — if  not  protected — the  horses  would  be  stam 
peded.  So,  turning  about,  the  Highlanders  and  back 
woodsmen  hastened  to  form  a  circle  around  the  terrified 
animals,  while  from  all  sides  wild  cries  and  yells  showed 
that  a  vast  number  of  Pontiac's  allies  were  thirsting 
for  their  life  blood.  But  steady,  firm,  and  resolute,  the 
Regulars  crouched  upon  one  knee;  hid  behind  trees 
and  logs;  carefully  aimed  at  the  puffs  of  smoke  which 
issued  from  the  underbrush,  and  cheerfully  awaited 
the  charge  of  the  savages ;  while  Bouquet — in  the  centre 
— urged  them  with  voice  and  gesture  to  be  calm,  to  take 
certain  aim,  and  to  make  every  bullet  count. 

The  Indians  did  not  content  themselves  with  remain 
ing  hidden  within  the  dark  brush  and  shadows  of  the 
forest.  Suddenly  a  considerable  body  of  them  charged 
furiously  upon  the  British  line,  holding  their  knives 
and  tomahawks  ready  for  a  close  encounter.  But  they 
were  met  by  a  gruelling  volley,  and  with  the  cry  of 


196         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"No  quarter!"  the  Highlanders  charged  with  fixed 
bayonets  and  drove  the  whooping  warriors  into  the 
forest,  where  they  scampered  away  like  deer.  Few 
of  them  were  either  shot  or  stabbed,  while  over  fifty 
of  the  English  were  soon  writhing  upon  the  ground 
with  severe  wounds  from  bullets  and  arrows.  Again 
and  again  the  red  men  thus  charged;  again  and 
again  they  were  repulsed;  while  the  hoarse  shouts  of 
the  sturdy  backwoodsmen  were  mingled  with  the  blood 
thirsty  whoops  of  the  Indian  braves,  the  rattle  of 
musketry,  the  screams  of  the  wounded,  and  the  snorting 
of  the  terrified  horses.  Twilight  came,  but  the  red  men 
and  white  still  fought  on  in  the  forest,  and  only  night 
with  its  blackness  put  an  end  to  this  furious  fight  in 
the  wilderness.  The  combatants  parted  only  to  sleep 
upon  their  arms,  and  wait  for  the  renewal  of  the  struggle 
which  the  first  flush  of  daylight  was  again  to  bring. 

The  watchful  sentries  of  the  English  camp  no  sooner 
saw  the  dim  red  light  of  dawn  in  the  far  east  than 
hideous  and  awe-inspiring  whoops  arose  from  all  sides 
of  the  British  camp.  The  English  soldiers  sprang  to 
their  guns,  and  it  was  not  a  moment  too  soon,  for, 
with  a  thundering  roar,  a  volley  was  poured  in  upon 
them.  Under  cover  of  the  trees  and  bushes  the  enemy 
crept  up  close  to  where  courageous  Bouquet  stood  in 
the  centre  of  his  men,  crying  to  them  to  fight  the  red 
men  as  they  themselves  fought:  to  crouch  behind  logs, 
boulders,  bushes,  and  to  shoot  with  the  greatest  ac 
curacy.  Terrible  thirst  beset  the  English,  for  no  water 
was  at  hand  and  they  could  not  reach  the  stream  near 
by,  while  the  groans  of  the  wounded  stirred  the  savages 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   197 

to  renewed  vigor  in  the  assault.  Again  and  again  the 
English  charged,  but  the  Indians  vanished  into  the  brush 
like  serpents,  and  reappeared  to  the  onslaught  just  as 
soon  as  the  Highlanders  and  backwoodsmen  had  re 
formed  their  line.  The  redskins  redoubled  their  yells 
and  saw  the  horses  plunging  and  rearing  to  gain  their 
freedom  from  behind  a  wall  of  flour  bags,  which  also 
sheltered  the  wounded,  and  aiming  at  them,  endeav 
ored  to  stampede  the  entire  herd.  This  had  its  effect. 
Many  maddened  brutes  broke  away  from  their  halters, 
galloped  through  the  ring  of  kneeling  troops  and  yelping 
Indians,  and  rushed  madly  into  the  forest,  sweating 
with  fear  and  terror.  The  savages  yelled  with  pleasure 
at  this  and  taunted  the  troops  in  broken  English  from 
behind  the  shelter  of  trees  and  boulders,  saying,  "We 
got  you!  We  got  you!" 

The  fight  had  now  waged  from  daylight  until  ten 
o'clock,  and  there  was  a  lull  in  the  battle — a  lull  which 
allowed  Bouquet  to  perfect  a  plan  for  drawing  the 
Indians  into  an  ambuscade,  which  he  hoped  would  finish 
the  affair.  This  was:  to  allow  two  companies  on  the 
centre  of  the  line  to  fall  back  and  swing  around  to  the 
left,  behind  some  thick  brush  where  they  could  not  be 
seen.  The  place  vacated  by  them  was  not  to  be  filled 
up,  and  thus  the  British  commander  hoped  to  entice 
the  Indians  into  the  gap  in  his  line.  When  they  had 
come  well  inside,  the  two  companies  which  had  retreated 
were  to  close  in  upon  their  rear,  and  then  hem  them  in 
so  that  they  could  be  slaughtered.  At  the  word  of 
command,  the  two  companies  fell  back  and  disappeared 
from  view. 


198          FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

When  the  savages  saw  this  retreat,  they  were  sure 
that  they  at  last  had  the  British  on  the  run,  and  so 
pressed  onward  with  loud  and  exultant  yells  of  de 
fiance.  A  thin  line  of  troops  had  filled  up  the  gap  in 
the  line,  and  these  were  pushed  back  towards  the  interior 
of  the  camp,  while  the  Indians  seemed  to  be  about  to  break 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  circle.  With  wild,  hilarious 
yelpings  they  ran  headlong  into  the  gap,  but,  as  they 
did  so,  the  two  companies  which  had  retreated  broke 
from  the  cover  of  the  bushes  which  had  hidden  them, 
and  bore  down  upon  their  rear  with  yells  as  fierce  as 
those  of  the  men  of  the  forest.  The  Indians  faced  about 
with  great  courage  and  fired  into  the  oncoming  mass  of 
men,  but  the  Highlanders  fell  upon  them  with  the 
bayonet.  Nothing  could  stand  such  an  attack;  the 
red  warriors  broke  and  fled,  while  two  companies  which 
had  advanced  from  their  position  in  the  line  and  had 
lain  down  upon  the  ground,  poured  a  murderous  fire  into 
them  as  they  passed.  Numbers  fell  to  the  ground  in 
their  death  agony.  The  remainder  fled  precipitously, 
while  the  four  companies  united  and  chased  them 
furiously  through  the  woods.  Seeing  which,  the  re 
maining  Indians  gave  up  all  hope  of  success  against  the 
stalwart  British,  and,  with  one  parting  volley  and  yell  of 
defiance,  they,  too,  melted  away  into  the  forest.  The 
fight  at  Bushy  Run  was  over.  About  sixty  Indian 
corpses  lay  upon  the  ground,  among  which  were  those 
of  several  chiefs,  while  eight  English  officers  and  one 
hundred  and  fifteen  men  had  breathed  their  last  amidst 
the  dark  forests  of  Pennsylvania.  Next  day  the  vic 
torious  troops  marched  onward  to  the  relief  of  Fort 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   199 

Pitt — with  their  wounded  upon  litters — and,  although 
frequently  attacked  by  small  bands  of  savages,  reached 
there  without  further  loss  or  mishap. 

At  far-away  Detroit  the  siege  went  merrily  on,  but  a 
detachment  of  three  hundred  regular  troops  was  hasten 
ing  to  its  relief.  On  July  the  26th  the  seasoned  veterans 
of  this  remarkable  siege  were  overjoyed  to  see  the  red 
coats  of  their  brethren-in-arms  as  they  silently  entered 
the  fort,  after  coming  down  the  river  under  cover  of 
the  night.  This  was  fortunate,  for  so  bold  had  Pontiac's 
warriors  become  that  it  would  have  fared  ill  with  them 
had  they  advanced  by  daylight.  Commanded  by 
Dalzell,  a  brave  and  courageous  man,  the  detachment 
was  composed  of  seasoned  British  soldiers  and  twenty 
independent  forest  rangers,  who  were  so  anxious  to  get 
at  the  enemy  that  arrangements  were  immediately  made 
for  an  attack  upon  Pontiac.  But  by  some  unknown 
means  this  arch-conspirator  and  Napoleonic  designer 
of  the  movement  against  the  English  learned  of  the 
plan,  and  not  only  removed  the  women  and  children 
from  his  camp,  but  stationed  two  strong  parties  of  his 
warriors  in  an  ambuscade,  behind  piles  of  cord-wood 
which  lay  on  either  side  of  the  road  that  the  English 
had  to  take.  Three  hundred  of  the  British  left  the 
fort  about  an  hour  before  day,  and  marched  rapidly 
up  the  bank  of  the  stream  in  the  direction  of  the  Ottawa 
camp.  They  proceeded  in  silence  until  they  reached  a 
small  bridge  over  a  stream  called  Bloody  Run,  and  were 
half  way  across  it  before  they  knew  that  the  Indians  had 
the  slightest  suspicion  of  their  approach.  Suddenly 
terrific  yells  burst  from  their  front  and  a  roar  of  musketry 


200          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

sounded  in  their  ears  from  the  high  banks  on  either 
side.  Half  the  advance  party  fell  in  their  tracks, 
while  the  rest  turned  to  run,  but  Dalzell  raised  his 
voice  above  the  uproar,  rushed  to  the  front,  sword  in 
hand,  and  led  on  his  men.  They  pushed  across  the 
bridge,  and  ran  up  the  banks,  but  not  an  Indian  was 
in  sight.  In  vain  the  British  looked  for  them — they 
had  fled — but  in  the  murk  of  the  early  morn  their 
guns  flashed  from  behind  outhouses  and  fences,  while 
fierce  war  cries  rose  with  vigor  and  intensity.  Again 
and  again  the  soldiers  advanced,  but  it  was  useless, 
and  so,  abandoning  all  idea  of  a  successful  attack  upon 
Pontiac's  camp,  they  retreated  to  the  stockade  at 
Detroit,  fired  at  all  the  way  and  presenting  somewhat 
the  same  appearance  as  Lord  Percy's  troops  in  the 
retreat  from  Lexington  some  years  later,  at  the  out 
break  of  the  American  Revolution. 

As  the  soldiers  were  retreating  before  the  warriors 
of  Pontiac,  Dalzell  used  every  effort  to  restore  order, 
and  at  last  succeeded  in  doing  so .  The  Indians  had  taken 
possession  of  a  house,  near  the  road,  from  the  windows 
of  which  they  fired  down  upon  the  English;  so  some  of 
the  rangers  broke  down  the  door  with  an  axe,  rushed  in, 
and  drove  the  redskins  away.  A  captain  was  ordered 
to  drive  off  some  braves  from  behind  some  neighboring 
fences,  and,  as  he  charged  them  with  his  company,  he 
fell,  mortally  wounded,  shouting:  "On,  on,  England 
forever!"  The  Indians  ran  off,  but  no  sooner  had  the 
men  turned  about  than  the  savages  came  running  in 
upon  the  flank  and  rear,  cutting  down  the  stragglers 
with  their  tomahawks  and  scalping  all  who  fell.  A 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   201 

Sergeant  of  the  55th  Regiment  lay  helplessly  wounded, 
and  realizing  that  he  soon  would  be  scalped,  he  gazed 
with  a  look  of  despair  after  his  comrades  as  they  made 
off.  This  caught  the  eye  of  warm-hearted  Dalzell. 
So — with  the  true  spirit  of  a  hero— he  ran  over  to  the 
wounded  man  to  pull  him  away  out  of  danger,  where  he 
could  be  carried  to  the  fort.  But  as  he  leaned  over 
him,  a  rifle  shot  sounded  through  the  dense  mist  which 
shrouded  the  battle  field,  and  he  fell  dead  across  the 
body  of  the  disabled  private.  Few  saw  him  struck,  and 
no  one  dared  to  turn  back  to  recover  his  body,  and 
thus,  deserted  and  alone,  the  brave  Englishman  lay 
upon  the  field  of  battle  to  be  scalped  and  plundered  by 
the  exultant  savages. 

This  was  the  last  important  event  attending  the  re 
markable  siege  of  Detroit.  Winter  was  approaching, 
the  Indians  had  nothing  laid  by  which  could  sustain 
them  through  the  winter,  and  so  they  had  to  repair  into 
the  forests  in  order  to  trap,  hunt,  and  fish.  When 
spring  arrived,  the  various  bands,  as  they  came  in  to  see 
the  great  chief  Pontiac,  told  him  that  they  were  tired 
of  the  war  and  that  they  wished  for  peace.  The  Hurons 
and  Pottawattamies,  who  had  partly  been  forced  into 
the  war  by  threats  of  the  followers  of  Pontiac,  with 
drew  altogether,  and  thus  completely  ruined  the  am 
bitions  of  the  great  Ottawa  chief,  who  had  been  so  sure 
of  success  that  he  had  already  made  arrangements  with 
the  French  of  dividing  the  conquered  territory  with 
them.  The  garrison  at  Detroit  still  watched  his  move 
ments  with  anxiety.  "Tis  said  that  Pontiac  has  gone 
to  the  Mississippi,  but  we  don't  believe  it,"  wrote  one 


202         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

of  the  soldiers  at  this  time,  and  so  constant  watch  and 
guard  was  kept  up  within  the  palisades  which  had 
successfully  defied  the  might  of  the  cruel  leader  of  the 
conspiracy.  He  was  still  near  by;  no  one  dared  to 
venture  far  into  the  wilderness;  and  there  was  constant 
dread  of  a  fresh  assault. 

But  the  reign  of  terror  was  drawing  to  its  close,  and 
when,  in  the  early  summer  of  1764,  General  Bradstreet 
arrived  with  a  force  of  three  thousand  men,  all  the  tribes 
in  the  vicinity  of  Detroit  came  in  and  concluded  a 
peace,  with  the  exception  of  the  fierce  Delawares  and 
Shawnees,  who  had  so  unsuccessfully  besieged  the 
ramparts  of  Fort  Pitt.  Pontiac,  himself,  took  no  part 
in  the  council  and  was  no  longer  seen.  He  abandoned 
both  the  country  and  his  followers,  and,  according  to 
report,  went  far  to  the  southwest  to  the  territory  of 
the  Illinois.  Here,  nursing  in  silence  his  wrath,  re 
sentment,  and  mortification,  he  brooded  upon  his  fate, 
and  contemplated  a  fresh  outbreak  against  the  Eng 
lish,  trusting  that  the  tribes  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Illi 
nois  River — the  St.  Josephs,  the  Miamis,  the  Mar- 
contens,  the  Pians,  and  the  Illinois — would  be  suffi 
ciently  strong  to  cope  with  the  force  and  intelligence  of 
the  British.  His  plot  against  Detroit  had  been  a  com 
plete  failure.  True — the  smaller  forts  upon  the  frontier 
had  fallen  before  the  unexpected  assaults  of  his  allies — 
but  the  great  prize,  Detroit,  had  slipped  his  grasp. 
Now  a  large  garrison  was  there,  his  Indians  were  starved 
and  awed  into  submission.  Fort  Pitt  still  frowned 
down  from  its  height  in  perpetual  menace  to  his  allies, 
and  rumors  of  an  advance  upon  the  warlike  Delawares 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON  203 

and  Shawnees  filled  him  with  chagrin  and  mortification. 
His  confederacy  was  fast  breaking. 

And  the  advance  came.  The  brave  and  hardy 
Bouquet  with  an  army  of  Pennsylvania  rangers,  Vir 
ginia  trappers,  and  regular  troops,  pushed  far  into  the 
country  of  the  warlike  Delawares  in  the  valley  of  the 
Ohio.  Reaching  a  spot  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Indian 
country,  he  erected  a  stout  palisade,  and  awaited  a 
deputation  from  the  fierce  enemies  of  the  Pennsylvania 
frontier.  All  the  villages  of  the  Shawnees  were  within 
a  few  days'  march,  so  no  choice  was  left  to  the  Indian 
warriors  but  to  sue  for  peace  or  else  battle  with  a  man, 
who,  at  the  desperate  encounter  of  Bushy  Run,  had 
routed  their  entire  force  of  fighting  braves,  with  an 
army  one-third  the  size  of  that  which  he  now  had  with 
him.  Bouquet  meant  business,  and  the  Indians  knew  it. 
The  frontiersmen  were  tired  of  scalpings,  burnings,  and 
robberies  on  the  border.  They  had  marched  out  to 
conclude  a  treaty  of  perpetual  peace,  or  to  give  these 
wild  rangers  of  the  forest  such  a  beating  that  they  would 
remember  it  forever.  Confident  in  their  strength  and 
the  justice  of  their  cause,  they  awaited  the  advent  of 
the  Indian  Chiefs,  with  rifles  loaded,  bullet  pouches 
well  filled,  and  spirits  fired  with  hatred  for  the  cruel 
savages. 

When  the  Indian  Chiefs  arrived  next  day,  they  found 
a  small-sized  army  of  over  fifteen  hundred  fighting  men 
drawn  up  in  battle  array.  The  soldiers  were  silent, 
their  bright  red  coats  of  the  Royal  Americans  shone 
brightly  against  the  green  of  the  forest,  the  bayonets 
flashed;  the  flags  fluttered;  and  the  even  ranks  of  back- 


204         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

woodsmen  in  fringed  hunting-frocks  and  moccasins  had 
stern  determination  written  upon  their  weather-beaten 
countenances.  The  Highlanders,  with  bare  legs  and 
kilts,  leaned  carelessly  upon  their  rifles  and  gazed  with 
indifference  at  the  painted  chieftains  of  the  forest,  who, 
seating  themselves  with  sullen  dignity,  appointed  one  of 
their  number  to  deliver  a  speech.  In  this  the  orator 
promised  to  give  up  all  the  white  captives  which 
the  Indians  held  and  to  make  peace.  "I  am  come 
among  you  to  force  you  to  make  atonement  for  the  in 
juries  you  have  done  us,"  answered  the  martial  Bouquet. 
"I  have  brought  with  me  the  relatives  of  those  you  have 
murdered.  They  are  eager  for  vengeance,  and  nothing 
restrains  them  from  taking  it  but  my  assurance  that  this 
army  shall  not  leave  your  country  until  you  have  given 
them  ample  satisfaction.  You  are  all  in  our  power,  and, 
if  we  choose,  we  can  exterminate  you  from  the  earth, 
but  the  English  are  a  merciful  and  generous  people, 
adverse  to  shed  the  blood  even  of  their  greatest  enemies; 
and  if  it  were  possible  that  you  could  convince  us  that 
you  sincerely  repent  of  your  past  perfidy,  and  that  we 
could  depend  on  your  good  behavior  for  the  future, 
you  might  yet  hope  for  mercy  and  peace.  If  I  find  that 
you  faithfully  execute  the  conditions  which  I  shall 
prescribe,  I  will  not  treat  you  with  the  severity  which 
you  deserve.  I  give  you  twelve  days  from  this  date 
to  deliver  into  my  hands  all  the  prisoners  in  your  .pos 
session,  without  exception — Englishmen,  Frenchmen, 
women,  and  children — whether  adopted  into  your 
tribes,  married,  or  living  among  you  under  any  de 
nomination  or  pretense  whatsoever.  And  you  are  to 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON   205 

furnish  these  prisoners  with  clothing,  provisions,  and 
horses,  to  carry  them  to  Fort  Pitt.  When  you  have 
fully  complied  with  these  conditions,  you  shall  then 
know  on  what  terms  you  may  obtain  the  peace  you  sue 
for."  This  speech  had  the  desired  effect;  prisoners  by 
the  hundreds  were  soon  brought  in,  and,  after  forcing 
the  Indians  to  give  him  hostages  to  insure  the  keeping 
of  peace,  Bouquet  went  back  to  the  settlements  with  his 
army,  threatening  that  if  the  Indians  again  went  upon 
the  war  path  he  would  return  with  a  larger  force  and 
completely  annihilate  the  warring  tribes. 

News  of  this  was  reported  to  Pontiac,  as  he  sullenly 
meditated  further  plans  for  revenge  in  his  wigwam 
among  the  Illinois.  Daily  he  saw  his  followers  dropping 
off  from  him.  To  hold  out  longer  against  the  whites 
was  folly.  He  was  surrounded  by  enemies.  In  the 
West  were  unfriendly  Indian  tribes;  to  the  South  were 
the  hereditary  enemies  of  his  people,  the  Cherokees; 
in  the  East  were  the  whites,  and  to  the  North  a  strong 
and  vigorous  garrison  held  the  fortress  of  Detroit. 
Foiled,  defeated,  dismayed,  he  determined  to  accept 
that  peace  which  he  knew  that  the  English  would  give, 
to  smoke  the  calumet  (or  peace  pipe)  with  his  white 
conquerors,  and  to  wait  for  some  favorable  opportunity 
for  revenge.  Consequently  he  attended  a  council 
between  his  tribesmen— the  Ottawas — and  the  English 
at  Detroit,  promised  allegiance  to  the  British  flag,  and, 
requesting  that  the  past  be  forgetten,  threw  down  a 
wampum  belt  upon  the  floor,  saying:  "By  this  belt  I 
remove  all  evil  thoughts  from  my  heart.  Let  us  live 
together  as  brothers."  In  the  spring  he  attended  a 


206         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

council  at  Oswego,  New  York,  presided  over  by  Sir 
William  Johnson,  and,  being  requested  for  a  speech, 
rose  to  say:  " Father,  when  our  great  father  of  France 
was  in  this  country,  I  held  him  fast  by  the  hand.  Now 
that  he  is  gone,  I  take  you,  my  English  father,  by  the 
hand,  in  the  name  of  all  nations,  and  promise  to  keep 
this  covenant  as  long  as  I  live."  Here  he  delivered  a 
belt  of  wampum.  "  Father,  when  you  address  me;  it  is 
the  same  as  if  you  addressed  all  the  nations  of  the  West. 
Father,  this  belt  is  to  cover  and  strengthen  our  chain 
of  friendship,  and  to  show  you  that  if  any  nation  shall 
lift  the  hatchet  against  our  English  brethren  we  shall  be 
the  first  to  feel  and  resent  it." 

True  to  his  promise,  the  Great  War  Chief  remained 
at  peace  with  the  whites  from  now  on.  Who  can 
reckon  what  bitter  thoughts  must  have  assailed  this 
red  Napoleon  when  he  considered  the  humiliating  close 
of  his  campaign?  Proud,  ambitious,  savage,  he  saw 
the  oncoming  rush  of  the  men  of  a  different  race  with 
revengeful  apprehension.  His  great  plan  of  extermina 
tion  of  the  British  had  completely  failed.  The  Indian 
lack  of  order,  well-defined  plan,  and  knowledge  of  war 
fare,  had  failed  to  make  but  a  temporary  impression 
upon  the  garrison  of  the  frontier.  Their  non-providence 
of  provisions  and  forethought  in  gathering  them,  had 
caused  the  abandonment  of  the  siege  of  Detroit.  Their 
inability  to  successfully  approach  a  well-built  stockade 
had  made  it  impossible  for  them  to  damage  the  walls  of 
Fort  Pitt.  Pontiac  had  plead  with  his  white  Canadian 
allies — during  the  attack  on  Detroit — and  had  requested 
them  to  show  his  Indians  how  to  make  tunnels  of  ap- 


PONTIAC:  THE  RED  NAPOLEON  207 

proach  as  the  English  did  in  their  own  warfare.  But 
the  French  said  that  they  did  not,  themselves,  know 
how  to  dig  these  trenches — which  was  an  untruth — and 
so  he  had  to  give  up  this  proper  method  of  attack.  Had 
his  followers  been  taught  in  the  civilized  schools  of 
military  discipline,  they  would,  by  mere  numbers,  have 
annihilated  the  brave  defenders  of  Detroit;  but  they 
were  children  of  the  forest— rude,  untutored  huntsmen — 
and  as  such  only  could  they  make  war. 

Across  from  the  present  city  of  St.  Louis,  Missouri,  is 
an  old  hamlet  called  Cahokia,  and  here  were  gathered 
several  Illinois  Indians  one  pleasant  day  of  the  early 
spring  of  1769.  Pontiac  had  wandered  to  St.  Louis  to 
see  an  old  acquaintance  called  St.  Ange,  and,  hearing 
that  some  drinking  bout,  or  social  gathering  was  in  prog 
ress,  told  his  white  acquaintance  that  he  was  going  to 
cross  the  river  to  see  what  the  warriors  of  Illinois  were 
doing.  St.  Ange  besought  him  not  to  join  them,  for 
he  was  not  popular  with  this  tribe.  "I  am  a  match  for 
the  English;  I  am  a  match  for  twenty  red  men,"  an 
swered  the  Ottawa  Chief,  boastfully,  "and  I  have  no 
fear  for  my  life."  So  saying,  he  entered  a  canoe  and 
crossed  to  the  other  shore  of  the  river. 

A  feast  was  in  progress,  and  to  it  the  mighty  Pontiac 
was  invited  as  soon  as  his  presence  among  the  Illinois 
was  known.  There  were  songs,  boasts,  speeches,  and  the 
whiskey  bottle  was  passed  freely  about.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  the  red  Emperor  drank  deeply,  and,  wher 
the  affair  was  over,  he  walked  majestically  down  the 
village  street  to  the  adjacent  woods,  where  he  was 
heard  to  chant  his  medicine  songs  in  the  dark  and  silent 


208          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

wood.  An  English  trader  who  had  an  intense  dislike 
for  the  mighty  war  chief  was  then  in  the  village,  and, 
seeing  that  the  moment  was  propitious  for  an  assault 
upon  him,  bribed  a  strolling  warrior  of  the  Kaskaskia 
tribe  of  the  Illinois  with  a  barrel  of  liquor  to  kill  the 
fierce  leader  of  the  Ottawas.  Fired,  perhaps,  by  an 
equal  hatred  for  Pontiac,  the  red  assassin  soon  consented 
to  do  the  deed,  for  he  was  promised  still  further  reward 
if  he  should  be  successful.  As  the  dark  figure  of  the 
leader  of  the  great  Indian  conspiracy  loomed  strangely 
erect  in  the  shadow  of  the  forest,  a  silent  form  crept — like 
a  wildcat — close  to  where  he  stood.  A  twig  snapped. 
Pontiac  turned  to  see  what  disturbed  the  quiet  of  the 
forest,  and,  as  he  did  so,  a  tomahawk  was  buried  in  his 
brain.  He  fell  prostrate  upon  the  green  carpet  of  moss. 
A  shrill  wail  of  triumph  startled  the  night  birds  from 
the  branches,  and  thus,  foully  and  brutally  assaulted, 
died  the  mighty  Sachem  of  the  Ottawas. 


LOGAN:    THE  MIGHTY  ORATOR  AND 
WARRIOR   OF   THE  MINGOES 

A  FRONTIERSMAN  in  the  Ohio  country,  named 
Brown,  was  looking  about  for  good  land   upon 
which  to  settle,  and,  finding  some  excellent  ter 
ritory    in   the    Kishacognillas    Valley,    was    wandering 
around  in  search  of  springs.     About  a  mile  from  the 
edge  of  the  valley  he  discovered  a  bear,  and  as  he  travelled 
along — hoping  to  get  a  shot  at  him — he  suddenly  came 
upon  a  spring.     Being  very  thirsty,   he  set  his  rifle 
against  a  small  tree,  and,  rushing  down  the  bank  near 
the  water,  laid  down  to  drink. 

"Upon  putting  my  head  down,"  says  the  pioneer, 
"I  saw  reflected  in  the  water,  on  the  opposite  side,  the 
shadow  of  a  tall  Indian.  I  sprang  to  my  rifle,  when 
the  savage  gave  a  yell,  whether  for  peace  or  war  I  was 
not  just  then  sufficiently  master  of  my  faculties  to 
determine;  but  upon  my  seizing  my  rifle  and  facing 
him,  he  knocked  up  the  pan  of  his  gun,  threw  out  the 
priming,  and  extended  his  open  palm  to  me  in  token 
of  friendship.  After  putting  down  our  guns,  we  again 
met  at  the  spring  and  shook  hands.  This  was  Logan — 
the  best  specimen  of  humanity  I  ever  met  with,  either 
white  or  red.  He  could  speak  a  little  English,  and  told 
me  that  there  was  another  white  hunter  a  little  way 
down  the  stream,  and  offered  to  guide  me  to  his  camp. 

209 


210         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

There  I  met  another  white  man  named  Maclay.  We 
remained  together  in  the  valley  a  week,  looking  for 
springs  and  selecting  lands,  and  laid  the  foundation 
of  a  friendship  which  never  had  the  slightest  interrup 
tion. 

"We  visited  the  camp  at  Logan's  Spring,  and  Maclay 
and  he  shot  at  a  mark  for  a  dollar  a  shot.  Logan  lost 
four  of  five  rounds,  and  acknowledged  himself  beaten. 
When  we  were  about  to  leave  him,  he  brought  out  as 
many  deerskins  as  he  had  lost  dollars,  and  handed  them 
to  Mr.  Maclay,  who  refused  to  take  them,  alleging  that 
we  had  been  his  guests,  and  did  not  come  to  rob  him; 
that  the  shooting  had  only  been  a  trial  of  skill,  and  the 
bet  merely  nominal. 

"  Logan  drew  himself  up  with  great  dignity,  and  said : 
'  Me  bet  to  make  you  shoot  your  best — me  a  gentleman, 
and  me  take  your  dollar  if  me  beat.' 

"So  he  was  obliged  to  take  the  skins,  or  affront  our 
friend,  whose  nice  sense  of  honor  would  not  permit  him 
to  receive  even  a  horn  of  powder  in  return." 

This  incident  well  illustrates  the  character  of  Logan: 
a  Chief  of  the  Mingoes,  one  of  the  bravest  of  men,  one 
of  the  greatest  of  orators,  and  a  redskin  who  preferred 
peace  to  war.  He  was  the  second  son  of  Shikellimus — 
a  wealthy  Sachem — but,  although  he  inherited  the 
talents  of  his  father,  he  did  not  inherit  his  prosperity. 
He  took  no  part — except  that  of  peace-making — in  the 
French  and  English  war  of  1760,  and  was  always  con 
sidered  a  friend  of  the  white  man,  as  he  was  at  heart,  al 
though  circumstances  made  him  rebel  against  the 
aggressions  of  the  frontiersmen.  His  residence  was  at  a 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        211 

western  settlement  near  Sandusky,  Ohio,  and  near  by 
were  about  three  hundred  red  warriors. 

This  eminent  Indian  supported  his  family  by  killing 
deer,  dressing  the  skins,  and  selling  them  to  the  whites. 
He  also  traded  in  the  land,  which  he  had  inherited  from 
his  forebears,  and  sold  quite  a  piece  to  a  tailor  named 
De  Yong,  who  lived  in  Ferguson's  Valley,  near  the 
Scioto  River.  According  to  the  stipulation  in  this 
particular  trade,  he  received  his  pay  in  wheat,  and, 
taking  it  to  the  mill,  found  it  so  worthless  that  the  miller 
refused  to  grind  it,  saying:  "It  is  good  for  nothing. 
Take  it  away."  Much  chagrined  at  this  turn  of  fortune, 
the  Indian  Chief  took  the  matter  before  a  Judge,  named 
Brown,  who  questioned  him  about  the  character  of  the 
wheat,  asking  him  what  was  in  it  that  so  much  resembled 
the  wheat  itself,  and  yet  was  not  wheat. 

"I  do  not  know  what  to  call  it,"  said  Logan. 

"It  must  have  been  cheat,"  said  the  Judge. 

"Yah,"  answered  the  Indian,  "that  very  good  name 
for  him.  It  was  cheat." 

"  I  will  give  you  redress,"  cried  the  man  of  law,  handing 
him  a  writ  to  give  to  the  constable.  "This  will  bring 
you  in  money  for  your  skins.  Take  it  to  the  constable 
and  he  will  see  that  you  have  justice." 

But  the  uncivilized,  yet  honest,  Indian  could  not 
understand  how  this  little  piece  of  paper  could  force  a 
rogue  to  pay  him  what  he  really  owed.  "I  no  under 
stand,"  said  he. 

Judge  Brown  took  down  his  own  commission,  with  the 
arms  of  the  King  upon  it,  and  explained  to  the  Mingo 
Chief  the  first  principles  and  operations  of  the  civil  law. 


212         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"Law  good/'  said  Logan,  after  a  while.  "Make 
rogues  pay  up.  White  man's  law  good.  But  my  law 
better — Do  to  other  man  as  you  wish  him  to  do  to 
you." 

Another  incident  well  exhibits  the  goodness  of  heart 
possessed  by  this  noted  warrior,  until  cruel  injustice 
made  him  turn  against  the  whites  with  hatred  and  re 
venge  in  his  soul. 

When  a  child  of  a  certain  Mrs.  Norris  was  just  be 
ginning  to  learn  to  walk,  her  mother  remarked — in  the 
presence  of  Logan — that  she  was  sorry  that  she  did  not 
have  a  pair  of  moccasins  for  her  daughter,  so  that  her 
feet  could  be  more  firmly  supported  as  she  endeavored 
to  stand  upright.  The  Indian  said  nothing,  at  the 
time,  but  soon  afterwards  asked  Mrs.  Norris  if  she  would 
not  allow  the  little  girl  to  go  with  him  to  his  cabin  and 
spend  the  day.  To  this  request  the  mother  gave  a 
reluctant  consent,  for  she  feared  treachery,  but  knowing 
the  delicacy  of  an  Indian's  feelings — and  particularly 
those  of  Logan — she  finally  permitted  her  little  girl  to 
accompany  the  celebrated  red  man  to  his  home.  The 
hours  of  the  day  wore  slowly  away — only  too  slowly 
for  the  anxious  mother.  It  was  soon  dusk,  and  still  her 
little  one  had  not  returned.  Mrs.  Norris  was  in  a 
paroxysm  of  fear,  but  just  as  the  sun  began  to  sink  in  the 
West,  the  trusty  chieftain  was  seen  coming  down  the 
path  before  the  house,  holding  the  little  girl  in  his  arms, 
and  upon  her  feet  were  two  beaded  moccasins— the 
product  of  -Logan's  skillful  handiwork. 

This  well  illustrates  the  kindly  spirit  of  Logan.  He 
lived  quietly  and  peacefully,  until  events  occurred  which 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY   ORATOR        213 

changed  the  whole  course  of  his  life.  In  the  spring  of 
1774,  a  robbery  and  murder  occurred  in  the  Ohio  coun 
try,  among  some  of  the  white  settlers,  and  the  crime 
was  laid  to  the  door  of  the  Mingoes.  It  is  probable  that 
the  Indians  did  not  commit  the  crime,  for  numerous 
white  adventurers  were  traversing  the  frontier  at  this 
time,  some  of  whom  disguised  themselves  as  Indians, 
and  thought  no  more  of  murder  than  of  sleep.  In  spite 
of  this  a  cry  went  up  from  all  sides,  "  Revenge  upon  the 
red  dogs  who  have  stolen  our  horses  and  killed  our 
iriends!  Revenge!" 

It  was  not  long  before  other  events  occurred  which 
soon  led  to  a  serious  war.  Among  the  backwoodsmen 
on  the  Maryland  border  was  a  settler  named  Michael 
Cresap — a  good,  sturdy  woodsman,  but  when  his  blood 
was  heated  and  his  savage  instincts  were  aroused,  he 
was  a  relentless  hater,  and  a  determined,  vindictive 
enemy.  He  feared  no  man  and  would  as  readily  kill  a 
redskin  as  a  deer.  Collecting  a  party  of  armed  hunts 
men,  he  paddled  down  the  Kanawha  River  in  quest  of 
vengeance  upon  the  Indians,  and  soon  perpetrated  a 
foul  and  ignoble  deed.  As  he  and  his  followers  rounded 
a  bond  in  the  stream  near  Yellow  Creek,  a  canoe  filled 
with  Indian  women  and  children — and  one  man  only — 
was  seen  coming  towards  them.  The  savages  were 
unarmed,  unprepared,  and  did  not  expect  an  attack 
from  the  whites,  who  now  concealed  themselves  on  the 
bank  of  the  river  and  awaited  the  approach  of  the  red 
skins.  The  canoe  soon  touched  the  shore,  a  murderous 
fire  was  opened  upon  the  inoffensive  occupants,  and 
before  many  moments,  every  Indian  had  been  slaugh- 


214         FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

tered.  Three  of  these  people  were  relatives  of  Logan: 
the  man  of  peace  and  friend  of  the  white  man. 

The  great  Mingo  Chief  had  just  been  present  at  an 
Indian  council  and  had  persuaded  the  Mingoes,  who 
feared  war,  that  peace  was  far  better.  With  a  majestic 
look  he  had  declared  that  the  "Long  Knives/ '  or  Vir 
ginians,  would  soon  come  like  trees  in  the  woods,  and 
would  drive  them  from  their  lands,  unless  the  hatchet 
were  laid  down.  His  counsel  had  prevailed,  the  red 
skins  had  decided  to  make  no  resistance  to  the  whites, 
but  when  they  heard  of  the  massacre  their  whole  de 
meanor  was  changed.  Logan  had  been  paid  for  his  kindly 
spirit  of  forbearance  by  the  murder  of  his  family.  The 
tiger  was  aroused  in  him.  His  proud  spirit  was  fired 
with  intense  anger,  and,  swearing  that  his  tomahawk 
should  drink  the  blood  of  the  white  man  till  its  vengeance 
should  be  appeased  with  a  tenfold  expiation,  he  pre 
pared  for  a  bloody  struggle.  On  all  sides  the  savages 
made  ready  for  a  long  and  serious  campaign. 

Skirmishing  had  already  taken  place  between  bands  of 
Indians  and  whites,  but  no  great  battle  was  to  occur  for 
some  time.  Logan — with  a  band  of  eight  chosen  warriors 
—boldly  penetrated  the  white  settlements  at  the  head 
waters  of  the  Monongahela  River,  took  many  prisoners, 
killed  many  whites,  and  defied  every  attempt  at  capture. 
The  Shawnees,  the  Mingoes  (or  Senecas)  and  a  few  Dela- 
wares  and  Cherokees  were  also  in  the  field,  pillaging, 
burning  and  murdering  on  the  frontier;  while  the  white 
settlers  crowded  into  the  large  towns  for  protection. 

An  incident  now  occurred  which  well  exhibits  the 
kindly  spirit  of  Logan,  even  when  in  the  heat  of  battle, 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        215 

when  blood  was  being  freely  spilled  on  every  side,  and 
when  the  savages  were  taking  every  possible  advantage 
of  the  whites.  A  white  prisoner  named  William  Robin 
son  fell  into  the  hands  of  Logan's  band,  and,  being 
tried  by  the  council,  the  great  Mingo  Chief  endeavored 
for  nearly  an  hour  to  persuade  his  men  to  let  the  captive 
go.  But  his  eloquence  was  of  no  avail,  and  it  was  decided 
that  the  trembling  paleface  should  be  tortured  at  the 
stake.  While  bound  to  a  post,  Logan  suddenly  leaped 
into  the  circle  of  howling  redskins,  cut  the  thongs  which 
held  the  prisoner,  threw  a  belt  of  wampum  around  him, 
led  him  in  safety  to  his  wigwam,  and  shouted  in  a  loud 
voice  to  the  clamoring  braves,  "I  have  adopted  him  in 
place  of  my  brother  killed  at  Yellow  Creek." 

A  few  days  later  the  Chief  of  the  warring  red  men 
dictated  a  letter  to  his  adopted  brother,  who  wrote  it 
upon  birch  bark  with  ink  made  of  gun  powder  and 
water.  It  was  completed,  tied  to  a  war  club,  and  stuck 
into  the  logs  of  a  house  near  Helston  Creek,  where  the 
entire  family  which  had  formerly  resided  there  had  been 
massacred.  Some  days  later  it  was  found  by  a  party  of 
riflemen,  who  were  decidedly  surprised  and  chagrined 
to  read  the  following: 

"  Captain  Cresap: — What  did  you  kill  my  people  on 
Yellow  Creek  for?  The  white  people  killed  my  kin  at 
Conestoga,  a  great  while  ago,  and  I  thought  nothing 
of  that.  But  you  killed  my  kin  again  on  Yellow  Creek, 
and  took  my  cousin  prisoner.  Then  I  thought  I  must 
kill,  too,  and  I  have  been  three  times  to  war  since;  but 
the  Indians  are  not  angry — only  myself. 

CAPTAIN  JOHN  LOGAN." 


216         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

The  soldiers  who  found  this  note  were  upon  a  foray 
into  the  Ohio  territory,  led  by  a  Colonel  McDonald,  who 
was  a  brave  and  resolute  Indian  fighter.  They  were 
much  impressed  by  the  dignity  of  this  missive,  but  did 
not  stop  upon  their  errand  of  death,  and,  pushing 
to  the  mouth  of  Captina  Creek,  moved  upon  the  Mingo 
village  of  Wapitomica,  on  the  Muskingum,  destroying 
several  villages  on  the  way,  and  returning  safely  with 
several  chiefs  as  prisoners.  But  they  were  pursued  by 
the  savages  in  force,  and  realizing  that  to  insure  peace 
upon  the  border,  it  would  be  necessary  to  send  a  good- 
sized  army  against  the  allied  tribes,  the  Governor  of  Vir 
ginia  (Lord  Dunmore)  decided  to  send  a  small  army  of 
backwoodsmen,  soldiers,  and  trappers  into  the  country 
of  the  redskins.  Three  thousand  men  were  ordered  to  ad 
vance  against  the  Indians.  One  half  of  the  force  under 
the  command  of  General  Andrew  Lewis  was  to  march  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Kanawha  River  in  Ohio ;  while  Gover 
nor  Dunmore,  himself,  was  to  lead  the  other  half  from 
Pittsburg  to  Point  Pleasant,  Ohio,  where  the  two  bodies 
were  to  meet  and  fight  a  decisive  battle  with  the  Indian 
warriors  under  Logan  and  Cornstalk;  the  latter  a  great 
Chief  of  the  Shawnees,  and  an  excellent  fighter. 

"Did  I  not  tell  you  that  the  Long  Knives  would 
move  against  us?"  said  Logan  to  his  followers.  "They 
must  be  defeated.  I  wished  to  live  at  peace  with  my 
white  brothers,  and  I  bore  them  no  ill  will,  until  they 
murdered  my  relatives.  I  fear  that  we  shall  not  have 
strength  enough  to  beat  off  these  palefaces,  but  have 
courage,  ye  red  men,  and  we  shall  have  many  a  scalp  of 
these  fringed  shirts  to  hang  in  our  wigwams.'7 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        217 

"We  will  be  ready/'  shouted  his  followers,  and  soon 
their  wild  war  cries  echoed  through  the  forests  as  they 
leaped  about  in  a  circle  and  prepared  their  spirits  for 
the  coming  battles. 

Meanwhile  the  sturdy  pioneers  were  collecting  on  the 
frontier  and  preparing  for  the  advance  into  the  wilder 
ness.  General  Andrew  Lewis  was  a  stout  backwoods 
man  who  little  feared  the  savages  and  had  a  contempt 
for  danger  that  was  extraordinary,  His  army  soon 
gathered  in  the  western  mountains  of  Virginia,  and  a 
hardier,  more  energetic  body  of  fighters  it  would  have 
been  difficult  to  find.  With  droves  of  pack-horses  to 
carry  their  light  equipment,  and  numbers  of  beef  cattle 
to  feed  upon,  the  men  in  buckskin  and  fringed  hunting- 
shirts  finally  moved  off  in  the  direction  of  Ohio  and  the 
Great  Kanawha.  There  were  one  hundred  and  sixty 
miles  of  wilderness  to  pass  through  before  the  objective 
point  would  be  reached,  and  deep  forests  lay  in  the  path 
of  the  little  army.  But  in  the  front  was  a  veteran  scout, 
who  knew  the  dense  wilderness  like  a  book,  and  piloted 
the  soldiers  surely  and  directly  to  the  river  which  they 
searched  for. 

As  the  small  force  moved  through  the  forest,  the  men 
presented  a  most  picturesque  appearance.  The  strag 
gling  sunbeams  glistened  upon  their  long  rifles  and 
sheath  knives,  while  their  powder  horns  swung  jauntily 
from  long  cords  across  their  bodies  and  tapped  against 
the  wooden  butts  of  their  guns,  as  they  were  held  care 
lessly  under  the  right  shoulders.  The  twigs  and  branches 
crashed  as  the  pack  train  pushed  its  way  through  the 
unbroken  forest,  the  horses  snorting  and  whinnying. 


218         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  oxen  and  cows  lowing  and  grunting,  while  the  baaing 
of  a  few  sheep  added  to  the  general  disturbance.  The 
men  marched  silently,  without  singing  or  laughing,  for 
they  were  on  gruesome  business,  and  they  knew  that 
many  of  their  numbers  would  not  return.  In  the  front 
was  Colonel  Charles  Lewis — a  brother  of  the  General 
in  charge.  He  was  resplendent  in  a  scarlet  coat,  and 
this  one  bit  of  color  was  the  only  bright  spot  among  the 
yellow  buckskin  hunting  shirts  and  the  dark  coonskin 
caps  of  the  Rangers.  Surely,  carefully,  and  courageously 
they  moved  onward  upon  their  mission  of  death,  while 
the  startled  deer  sped  from  their  path  like  the  shadows 
of  those  departed. 

Upon  the  last  day  of  September  the  army  of  invasion 
reached  its  destination  and  speedily  formed  an  in 
trenched  camp.  Lewis  waited  for  a  week  for  the  arrival 
of  Lord  Dunmore  and  his  men.  "Egad,"  said  he  at 
length,  "I  believe  that  the  old  fox  has  deserted  us,  and 
we  Virginians  must  fight  the  redskins  on  our  own  hook." 

Hardly  had  he  made  the  remark  when  a  scout  came 
running  into  the  camp  with  news  that  startled  the 
vigilant  commander. 

"While  hunting  deer  with  Tom  Briscoe,"  said  he, 
"we  suddenly  came  upon  a  camp  of  Cornstalk's  men, 
all  of  them  in  war  paint.  They  fired  upon  us  before  we 
could  get  away  and  killed  my  companion.  Now  I  am 
come  to  tell  you  that  they  are  advancing  upon  you,  and 
you  will  be  attacked  before  another  sun." 

"Is  that  so?"  drawled  General  Lewis,  lighting  his 
pipe.  "Then  we  must  get  ready  for  the  varmints  and 
fight  them  without  Lord  Dunmore  and  his  men." 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        219 

Not  long  after  this  he  rose  from  the  stump  upon  which 
he  was  seated  and  gave  orders  that  his  brother  Charles 
Lewis  should  take  two  regiments  and  march  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  Indians  to  reconnoitre  next  morning, 
while  he  made  a  proper  disposition  of  the  rest  of  the 
army,  in  order  to  support  them.  The  two  regiments 
had  barely  advanced  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  camp, 
when  loud  war  whoops  sounded  from  their  front  and 
flanks,  and  they  were  suddenly  set  upon  by  a  howling, 
yelping  mob  of  redskins.  It  was  just  about  daylight, 
and,  dropping  immediately  behind  stumps  and  fallen 
logs,  the  soldiers  awaited  the  attack  of  the  Indians  with 
calm  determination.  Remembering  past  battles  with 
the  children  of  the  forest,  the  Rangers  did  not  heed 
lessly  expose  themselves,  and  fired  only  when  they  saw 
the  head  or  portion  of  the  body  of  a  warrior.  The 
firing  grew  hot.  The  yelling  and  screeching  of  the 
savages  was  discordant  and  fierce,  while  the  steady 
"crack,  crack"  from  their  rifles  soon  began  to  tell  upon 
the  crouching  ranks  of  the  Virginian  volunteers.  Colonel 
Charles  Lewis  was  most  conspicuous  in  his  red  coat  and 
so  became  an  easy  target  for  the  guns  of  the  savages. 
Soon,  pierced  by  several  balls,  he  was  obliged  to  leave 
the  firing  line,  and,  staggering  back  to  the  camp,  he 
perished  with  his  face  towards  the  foe,  still  urging  on  the 
Rangers  with  his  dying  breath. 

At  this  moment  it  seemed  as  if  the  redskins  would 
triumph.  Above  the  din  of  battle  Cornstalk's  voice 
could  be  heard,  calling,  "Be  strong!  Be  strong!"  And 
when  a  savage  showed  symptoms  of  flight,  he  is  said  to 
have  immediately  struck  him  down  with  his  tomahawk. 


220         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

A  warrior  named  Red  Hawk,  too,  was  conspicuous 
among  his  own  men,  urging  them  on  to  resistance  with 
stern  voice  and  determined  gestures.  The  right  wing 
of  the  Americans  began  to  give  way,  the  Rangers  began 
to  fall  back  from  the  murderous  bullets,  but  at  this  time 
reinforcements  rushed  to  the  threatened  point,  and, 
with  a  yell  as  fierce  as  that  of  the  savages,  the  fresh 
troops  crept  up  to  the  oncoming  foe.  The  two  lines 
were  more  than  a  mile  in  length,  the  combatants  were 
so  close  together  that  they  often  grappled  in  a  hand- 
to-hand  combat,  using  their  knives  and  tomahawks  freely. 
The  crack  of  the  rifles  was  mingled  with  the  groans  of  the 
wounded,  the  jeers  of  the  Indians,  the  shouts  of  the 
backwoodsmen,  and  the  wild  yells  of  the  chiefs  and  com 
manding  officers. 

It  was  now  about  twelve  o'clock,  and  the  savages  be 
gan  to  give  way  before  the  assaults  of  the  entire  army  of 
Virginians,  who  had  just  come  up.  But,  instead  of  re 
treating  to  a  great  distance,  the  Indians  hid  behind  a 
breastwork  of  fallen  logs  and  branches  which  extended 
clean  across  a  neck  of  land  which  ran  between  the  Ohio 
and  Kanawha  Rivers.  Not  only  had  they  had  fore 
thought  enough  to  prepare  this,  but  they  had  placed 
men  on  both  sides  of  the  stream,  in  the  rear  of  the 
Virginians,  so  that  if  they  had  been  defeated  not  one 
would  have  been  able  to  escape.  The  warriors  retreated 
stubbornly,  contesting  each  inch  of  the  way,  and  soon — 
from  the  protection  of  the  stout  breastwork — easily 
held  at  bay  the  victorious  white  men.  Colonel  Fleming, 
who  commanded  the  left  wing,  was  twice  hit,  but  kept 
his  command  and  continually  cheered  on  his  men  with 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        221 

words  of  confidence.  When  the  reinforcements  had 
arrived  at  the  critical  moment,  he  was  again  shot — this 
time  through  the  lungs — but  he  still  refused  to  give  way 
to  any  other  officer,  and  led  his  men  right  up  to  the 
breastwork,  behind  which  fifteen  hundred  Shawanoe, 
Delaware,  Mingo,  Wyandot,  and  Cayuga  warriors  poured 
a  rain  of  bullets  at  the  oncoming  Virginians.  The 
Rangers  lay  down  behind  the  trees  and  boulders  of  the 
forest  and  eagerly  waited  further  orders. 

General  Lewis  saw  that  he  had  to  cripple  the  enemy  or 
they  would  be  claiming  a  victory  and  would  thus  get  aid 
from  other  tribes.  Seventy-five  of  his  men  had  been 
either  killed  or  mortally  wounded,  and  over  one  hundred 
were  slightly  disabled.  It  was  time  for  action,  so,  send 
ing  three  companies  to  the  rear  of  the  breastwork,  he 
ordered  the  backwoodsmen  to  dash  into  the  Indians  from 
that  direction,  while  the  rest  of  the  army  would  swarm 
over  the  front  of  the  fortification.  Unseen  by  the 
savages,  the  soldiers  were  soon  in  the  forest  behind  the 
supposedly  impregnable  position  of  the  red  warriors, 
but  scouts  brought  news  of  their  advance  to  Corn 
stalk,  and,  believing  them  to  be  reinforcements  from 
Lord  Dunmore,  and  not  part  of  the  very  troops  which 
he  had  been  just  engaged  with,  the  Indian  War  Chief 
ordered  a  retreat.  As  the  sun  sank  upon  the  field  of 
battle,  the  Indian  fighting  men  fell  back  across  the  river 
in  the  direction  of  their  towns  along  the  Ohio  River, 
while  cheer  after  cheer  went  up  from  the  Virginians, 
as  they  realized  that  the  day  of  bloodshed  had  been 
ended. 

The  battle  was  over,  at  last,  and  it  had  been  a  severe 


222         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

struggle.  Fifty-two  graves  had  to  be  dug  for  the  dead 
backwoodsmen  of  the  forest,  while  half  the  commissioned 
officers  were  lifeless  upon  that  bloody  field.  The 
Indians'  loss  is  unknown — thirty-three  were  found  dead 
on  the  ground  which  had  been  contended  for,  but,  as 
many  of  their  stricken  had  been  thrown  into  the  river, 
it  was  impossible  to  ascertain  exactly  how  many  had 
fallen.  The  probabilities  are  that  they  lost  about  as 
many  as  did  the  whites,  and  thus  the  battle  of  Point 
Pleasant  or  the  Great  Kanawha,  in  the  autumn  of  1774, 
seems  to  justify  the  assertion  that  it  was  the  most  severe 
Indian  battle  that  had  taken  place  upon  the  soil  of 
America  up  to  that  time.  The  whites  were  eager  for 
another  fight,  as  they  wished  to  revenge  the  death  of 
their  comrades,  and  so,  as  soon  as  burial  services  were 
over  for  those  who  had  fallen,  they  again  took  up  the 
march  in  the  direction  in  which  the  Indians  had  dis 
appeared.  There  were  many  curses  against  Lord  Dun- 
more  for  not  having  joined  them,  as  he  had  promised, 
and  several  of  the  Virginian  Rangers  called  him  "  cow 
ard"  and  "  traitor." 

So  near,  indeed,  had  this  British  Governor  been  to 
the  Virginians  at  Point  Pleasant,  during  the  battle,  that 
his  men  could  easily  hear  the  sound  of  fighting  when  they 
placed  their  ears  to  the  ground.  He  had  advanced 
from  Pittsburg  with  a  strong  force  and  could  certainly 
have  fallen  upon  the  rear  of  the  Indians  had  he  so  wished, 
but,  as  he  did  not  hurry  his  course,  it  is  evident  that  he 
had  no  intention  of  co-operating  with  the  troops  of 
General  Lewis,  as  he  had  proposed  to  do.  Some  have 
contended  that  he  wished  to  sacrifice  the  Virginians  so 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        223 

as  to  defeat  the  savages  himself,  and  secure  reputation 
for  great  prowess.  This  is  an  absurd  contention,  for 
he  would  speedily  have  been  denounced  as  a  treacherous 
dog  and  would  have  suffered  death  from  his  own  men. 
Others  have  stated  that  he  felt  that  the  Indians'  cause 
was  a  just  one,  that  he  knew  that  the  Virginians  were 
soon  going  to  rebel  against  England,  and  thus  he  wished 
to  bring  peace  with  as  little  destruction  of  life  as  possible. 
It  is  probable  that  he  was  anxious  to  keep  the  good  will 
of  the  Indians,  with  a  view  of  gaining  them  as  allies  to 
the  mother  country  later  on.  In  fact,  after  the  Ameri 
can  Revolution  broke  out,  he  sent  emissaries  to  these 
very  savages,  asking  their  assistance  against  the  people 
of  Virginia,  so  his  lack  of  aggression  in  advancing  to 
the  aid  of  General  Lewis  is,  therefore,  partly  explained. 
We  must  remember  that  he  was  an  Englishman,  was 
patriotic,  and  wished  to  do  nothing  that  would  hurt 
the  interests  of  the  mother  country. 

The  troops  under  Lord  Dunmore,  numbering  as  many 
as  those  of  General  Lewis,  passed  through  the  Blue 
Range  at  Potomac  Gap,  and  crossed  into  Ohio  near 
Wheeling,  West  Virginia.  As  the  British  advanced 
into  the  Indian  country,  scouts  came  in  from  the  Senecas 
and  Delawares,  and,  on  October  sixth,  Lord  Dunmore 
had  a  conference  with  them,  offering  terms  of  peace. 
The  savages  carried  his  words  back  to  the  retreating 
warriors  who  had  fought  at  Point  Pleasant,  as  Lord 
Dunmore's  army  pushed  on  to  the  left  bank  of  Sippo 
Creek,  Ohio.  Here  the  soldiers  soon  made  a  fortified 
camp,  called  Camp  Charlotte,  and  waited  for  emissaries 
from  the  warlike  Indians.  A  messenger  was  also  sent  to 


224         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

intercept  the  march  of  General  Lewis,  telling  him  not  to 
fight  again,  until  his  commanding  officer — Lord  Dun- 
more — had  had  a  conference  with  the  red  men,  but, 
smarting  from  the  loss  of  his  brother,  and  fired  with 
the  zeal  for  a  signal  victory,  Lewis  felt  little  desire  to 
heed  the  command  of  the  Governor,  and  pressed  on  to 
Congo  Creek,  which  was  within  strking  distance  of  the 
Indian  towns  near  Chillicothe,  Ohio.  Again  Dunmore 
sent  him  a  command  not  to  attack  the  Indians,  and, 
seeing  that  the  Rangers  were  bent  upon  further  blood 
shed,  he  went  in  person  to  find  the  Virginian  leader. 
Drawing  his  sword  when  he  met  him,  he  said:  "Sir,  if 
you  persist  in  your  obstinacy  in  disobeying  my  com 
mands,  I  shall  run  you  through  with  this  weapon.  I 
am  your  commanding  officer,  sir."  "I  will  retire," 
answered  Lewis,  "  but  your  conduct,  sir,  is  cowardly  and 
treacherous  to  the  interests  of  Virginia." 

The  Indians  were  now  thoroughly  cowed  by  the  show 
of  force  which  the  whites  presented  and  were,  therefore, 
contemplating  peace.  At  a  conference  at  their  chief 
town,  Cornstalk  arose  and  upbraided  them  because  they 
had  not  listened  to  his  and  Logan's  suggestions  for 
peace  before  the  bloody  battle  of  Point  Pleasant.  "What 
will  you  do  now?"  said  he.  "The  Big  Knife  is  coming  on 
us,  and  we  shall  all  be  killed.  Now  you  must  fight  or  we 
are  undone."  He  paused  for  a  reply,  and  then  added, 
"  Now  let  us  kill  all  our  women  and  children  and  go  out 
and  fight  the  palefaces  until  we  die?"  Still  there  was 
no  answer  to  this  brave  proposal.  So,  rising  from  the 
seat  upon  the  ground,  the  Great  Chief  struck  his  toma 
hawk  into  a  post  of  the  council  house  with  a  sharp,  re- 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        225 

sounding  blow,  exclaiming,  "I  will  then  go  and  make 
peace."  "Ough!  Ough!"  came  from  all  sides.  "Go 
and  make  peace."  So  the  noted  warrior  hastened  to 
Dunmore's  camp  to  settle  the  difficulties  between  them 
immediately. 

Logan  was  not  with  him ;  in  fact,  he  had  taken  no  part 
in  these  councils,  but  had  remained  alone  in  the  Mingo 
village,  brooding  over  the  wrongs,  and  upon  the  cruel 
vengeance  which  he  had  taken  upon  the  whites  for  the 
murder  of  his  relatives.  "He  is  like  an  angry  dog," 
said  a  Delaware  warrior.  "  His  bristles  are  all  up,  but 
they  are  gradually  falling."  When  urged  to  attend  the 
peace  conference,  he  muttered:  "I  am  a  warrior  and  not 
a  counsellor.  I  will  not  come  to  the  meeting,  for  my 
people  have  not  followed  my  advice." 

At  the  conference  at  Camp  Charlotte  Cornstalk  spoke 
for  his  red  brethren,  and  he  is  said  to  have  delivered  a 
great  oration,  which  was  quite  equal  to  the  speeches 
of  Patrick  Henry,  the  great  orator  of  the  Virginia  House 
of  Burgesses.  "I  have  heard  many  orators,"  said 
Colonel  Wilson  of  Dunmore's  staff,  "but  none  whose 
power  of  delivery  surpassed  that  of  Cornstalk  on  this 
occasion.  His  looks  when  addressing  Dunmore  were 
truly  grand  and  majestic,  yet  peaceful  and  attractive. 
When  he  arose,  he  was  in  no  wise  confused  or  daunted, 
but  spoke  in  a  distinct  and  audible  voice,  without 
stammering  or  repetition,  and  with  peculiar  emphasis." 
Such  was  the  impression  which  he  created  that  a  speedy 
peace  was  agreed  upon,  which  was  to  insure  some  years 
of  quiet  to  the  frontiers  of  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania. 
The  Indians  retired  to  their  towns,  and  the  army  of  in- 


226         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

vasion  made  preparations  for  returning  to  the  settle 
ments  of  tide- water  Virginia. 

Although  Logan  had  refused  to  attend  the  conference, 
Lord  Dunmore  considered  it  most  important  to  learn 
what  were  his  future  intentions  towards  the  whites,  as 
he  was  a  renowned  chieftain  and  had  quite  a  following. 
He  could,  in  fact,  easily  stir  up  another  rebellion,  should 
he  so  wish,  and  thus  it  would  be  of  considerable  value 
to  the  whites  to  obtain  from  him  a  statement  to  the 
effect  that  he  would  keep  the  peace  in  future.     There 
fore,  a  messenger  named  John  Gibson  was  sent  to  the 
Mingo  camp  in  order  to  interview  the  savage  warrior 
and  persuade  him  to  sign  the  peace  pact.     Gibson  was 
a  frontier  veteran  who  had  lived  for  a  long  time  near 
the  Indians  and  knew  their  manners,  customs,  and  lan 
guage  as  well  as  that  of  his  own  race.     And  he  proved 
to  be  an  excellent  emissary,  for  Logan  talked  freely  to 
the  sturdy  backwoodsman.     For  some  time  they  dis 
cussed  the  war  and  its  outcome,   and  then,  weeping 
bitterly,  the  Mingo  Chieftain  made  a  spech  which  will 
always  live  as  one  of  the  finest  examples  of  Indian 
eloquence  recorded   in  the  history  of  the  conquest  of 
America   by  the   whites.     Gibson  took  the   words   of 
Logan  down  in  writing,  bade  the  sad  old  warrior  fare 
well,  and,  turning  towards  the  English  camp,  soon  had 
presented  the  answer  of  the  noble  red  man  to  Lord 
Dunmore.     The  Governor  read  it  in  council  before  the 
entire   frontier  army,    among   whom   were   Clark   and 
Cresap,    the  two  backwoods  soldiers  to  whom  Logan 
ascribed  the  murder  of  his  family. 

"I  appeal  to  the  white  man  to  say  if  he  ever  entered 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR         227 

Logan's  cabin  hungry  and  he  gave  him  no  meat;  if  ever 
he  came  cold  and  naked  and  he  clothed  him  not?"  were 
the  words  of  Logan.  "  During  the  course  of  the  last 
long  and  bloody  war  (the  French  and  Indian  War,  and 
the  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac)  Logan  remained  idle  in  his 
camp,  an  advocate  for  peace.  Such  was  my  love  for 
the  whites  that  my  countrymen  pointed  as  I  passed, 
and  said:  ' Logan  is  the  friend  of  the  white  man/ 
I  had  even  thought  to  have  lived  with  you,  but  for  the 
injuries  of  one  man.  Colonel  Cresap,  the  last  spring, 
in  cold  blood  and  unprovoked,  murdered  all  the  relations 
of  Logan,  not  even  sparing  my  women  and  children. 
There  runs  not  a  drop  of  my  blood  in  the  veins  of  any 
living  creature.  This  called  on  me  for  revenge.  I 
have  sought  it.  I  have  killed  many.  I  have  fully 
glutted  my  vengeance.  For  my  country  I  rejoice  at 
the  beams  of  peace;  but  do  not  harbor  a  thought  that 
mine  is  the  joy  of  fear.  Logan  never  felt  fear.  He  will 
not  turn  on  his  heel  to  save  his  life.  Who  is  there  to 
mourn  for  Logan?  Not  one." 

To  the  sad  and  sober  thoughts  of  the  Mingo  Chief, 
the  frontiersmen  listened  with  respectful  attention,  and 
in  the  hearts  of  some,  no  doubt,  came  feelings  of  re 
morse  that  the  lives  of  his  own  people  had  been  so  cruelly 
taken.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  reading  of  this  ad 
dress,  Clark  turned  to  Cresap  and  said:  "You  must  be 
a  very  great  man  that  the  Indians  hold  you  guilty  for 
every  mean  thing  that  has  happened."  "It  was  not  I 
who  did  this  deed,  but  Daniel  Greathouse,"  answered 
Cresap,  "and  I  have  half  a  mind  to  put  an  end  to  him 
when  next  we  meet,  because  of  this  brutal  murder." 


228         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

It  would  have  indeed  been  well  if  someone  would  have 
made  the  guilty  frontiersman  suffer  for  this  cruel  deed, 
which  had  wrecked  the  life  and  hopes  of  an  Indian 
Chief,  who,  at  heart,  was  a  friend  of  the  pioneers,  and 
not  an  enemy.  The  triumph  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  had 
dealt  a  heavy  blow  to  the  one  red  man  of  friendly  in 
tentions  who  resided  in  the  country  of  the  Ohio. 

The  troops  under  Lord  Dunmore  soon  returned  to 
Virginia,  and,  at  the  outbreak  of  the  American  Revolu 
tion,  took  part  in  many  of  the  engagements  of  the  first 
year  of  warfare.  Proud,  gloomy  Logan  never  recovered 
from  the  grief  which  the  loss  of  his  family  had  inspired. 
His  life  was  spent  among  his  own  people,  and  frequently 
he  was  engaged  in  the  various  skirmishes  and  uprisings 
of  the  border.  We  know  that  he  became  intemperate, 
and,  like  so  many  other  red  men  of  noble  qualities,  be 
came  a  victim  of  drink — a  habit  which  lowered  him  in 
the  estimation  of  both  the  whites  and  those  of  his  own 
race.  At  last,  when  returning  from  Detroit  to  his 
own  country,  after  assisting  in  making  a  treaty  of  peace, 
he  was  murdered  by  a  party  of  whites,  but  the  details 
of  his  death  are  not  known. 

Thus  perished  one  of  the  few  redskins  who,  at  heart, 
was  friendly  to  those  of  a  different  color.  One  can 
forgive  his  fierce  outburst  of  passion  against  the  whites, 
for  who  of  us  would  not  have  been  constrained  to  do 
likewise,  after  the  murder  of  our  entire  family,  and  in 
cold  blood?  His  features  were  noble,  his  form  was 
majestic,  his  words  bore  evidence  of  a  mind  in  which 
only  the  loftiest  thoughts  resided.  His  speech  to  the 
emissary  of  Lord  Dunmore  has  been  favorably  com- 


LOGAN:  MIGHTY  ORATOR        229 

pared  with  the  best  efforts  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero, 
the  great  orators  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  the  annals 
of  Indian  warfare  have  never  brought  to  light  a  character 
of  similar  grandeur  and  majesty  of  disposition.  The 
muse  of  history  smiles  brightly  upon  the  spirit  of  Logan : 
the  Friend  of  the  White  Man,  the  Great  Chieftain  of 
the  Mingoes. 


RED  JACKET,  OR  SA-GO-YE-WAT-HA : 
THE  GREAT  ORATOR  OF 

THE  SENEGAS 

A  LITTLE  schooner  was  about  to  be  launched  in 
a  port  of  the  eastern  seaboard  of  the  United 
States,  and  crowds  of  people  gathered  around 
to  see  the  vessel  take  to  the  water.     It  was  an  event 
of  more  than  usual  interest,  for    a    tall  Indian  chief  of 
majestic  bearing  stood  at  the  prow  in  order  to  speak  a 
word  of  parting  to  the  new-made  hull.    He  placed  one 
hand  upon  the  planking,  and,  turning  to  the  expectant 
onlookers,  spoke  with  great  feeling. 

"  You  have  a  great  name  given  to  you,"  he  said,  point 
ing  to  the  ship.  "Your  name  is  Red  Jacket.  Strive 
to  deserve  this  name.  Be  brave  and  daring.  Go 
boldly  into  the  troublesome  waters  of  the  great  sea 
and  fear  neither  the  swift  wind  nor  the  strong  waves. 
Be  not  frightened  nor  overcome  by  them,  for  it  is  in 
resisting  storms  and  tempests  that  I,  whose  name  you 
bear,  obtained  my  renown.  Let  my  great  example  in 
spire  you  to  courage  and  lead  you  to  glory.  Strike, 
you  men!  Break  the  underpinning  from  this  favored 
vessel  and  let  us  see  it  plough  into  the  surging  ocean!" 
As  he  ceased,  the  stanchions  which  held  the  schooner 
were  knocked  away,  and  proudly  and  serenely  she  dipped 
into  the  waters  of  the  blue  Atlantic. 

230 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR    231 

The  great  chief  who  had  christened  this  little  vessel 
was  one  of  the  most  famous  orators  who  has  ever  ex 
isted  among  the  Indians  of  America.  His  birth  is  sup 
posed  to  have  taken  place  about  the  year  1750,  under 
a  great  tree  which  formerly  stood  near  the  spring  of 
crystal  water  at  Canoga  Point,  on  the  western  shores 
of  Lake  Cayuga,  in  western  New  York.  His  parents 
were  Senecas — a  powerful  tribe  that  lived  at  Can-e-de- 
sa-ga,  at  the  present  site  of  Geneva,  New  York,  and 
they  were  members  of  the  Iroquois  confederation  of 
Indian  people.  His  father,  although  a  member  of  this 
tribe,  was  by  birth  a  Cayuga — a  thoughtful  and  far- 
seeing  race,  who  were  the  scholars  and  thinkers  of  the 
northern  Indians — and,  although  learned,  was  not  a 
man  of  any  prominence  or  distinction.  His  mother 
is  said  to  have  had  white  blood  in  her  veins,  and  so 
the  remarkable  ability  to  express  himself  in  a  logical 
manner  may  be  traced  to  this  taint  in  the  blood  of  the 
eloquent  Red  Jacket,  who  in  infancy  was  called  0-te- 
tiana,  which  signifies,  "The  Always  Ready." 

Tradition  has  it  that  when  a  young  man  Red  Jacket 
was  remarkably  fleet  of  foot,  so  fleet,  in  fact,  that  he  was 
employed  by  his  people  as  a  "runner"  or  messenger. 
But  his  ambition  was  to  become  a  great  orator  and 
speaker,  and  thus  leaving  the  active  participation  in 
warfare  to  spirits  more  bold  than  his  own,  he  endeavored 
to  become  the  greatest  counsellor  among  his  people. 
This  ability  to  sway  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  others 
made  him  chief — a  position  to  which  he  aspired,  and  of 
which  he  was  very  jealous — and,  when  he  came  to 
this  honor,  he  took  another  name,  according  to  the 


232         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

custom  of  his  nation.  This  was  the  euphonious  one  of 
Sa-go-ye-wat-ha,  which  means  "The  Keeper  Awake." 

But  how  came  it  that  he  was  called  Red  Jacket,  when 
these  other  names  were  so  much  more  distinguished 
and  musical?  This  is  explained  by  a  chronicler  of 
this  period  of  history,  who  says:  " During  the  war  of 
the  Revolution  this  Seneca  warrior  made  himself  very 
useful  to  the  British  officers  as  a  messenger.  He  was 
doubtless  of  great  value  to  them  because  of  his  intel 
ligence  and  gift  for  oratory,  and,  in  return  for  his  services, 
the  officers  presented  the  young  man  with  a  scarlet 
jacket,  very  richly  embroidered.  He  took  much  de 
light  in  this  coat  of  a  flaming  red,  and  this  peculiar 
dress  became  a  mark  of  distinction  arid  gave  him  the 
name  by  which  he  was  afterwards  best  known.  Even 
after  the  war,  when  the  Americans  wished  to  particu 
larly  ingratiate  themselves  with  him,  they  would  pre 
sent  him  with  a  red  jacket.  The  young  Prince  of  the 
wolf  den  would  don  the  bright  raiment  with  a  look  of 
immense  pride,  and  he  was  much  admired  by  his  follow 
ers  as  he  strutted  about  attired  in  this  attractive  dress." 
Thus  Sa-go-ye-wat-ha  became  known  by  the  title  of 
Red  Jacket,  a  name  which  clung  to  him  through  life, 
and  by  which  he  has  been  known  to  historians. 

The  predecessor  of  Red  Jacket,  as  Chief  of  the  Senecas, 
was  a  celebrated  brave,  called  Corn  Planter  by  the 
English,  a  man  well  known  for  his  oratorical  powers 
and  skill  as  a  warrior.  This  eminent  Chieftain  suddenly 
found  that  his  power  over  his  men  was  declining,  partly 
owing  to  the  fact  that  in  1784  he  had  used  his  influence 
in  consenting  to  a  cession  of  Seneca  land  to  the  American 


RED   JACKET,    OR    SA-GO-YE-WAT-HA. 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  233 

government  at  the  treaty  of  Fort  Stanwix,  and  partly 
owing  to  the  fact  that  he  was  growing  so  old  that  the 
young  blood  of  the  tribe  felt  that  a  young  man  should 
lead  them.  Bitterly  chagrined  by  his  loss  of  popularity, 
Corn  Planter  resolved  upon  a  desperate  exertion  to  re 
store  his  departing  influence,  and,  with  this  end  hi  view, 
determined  to  practice  upon  the  superstitions  of  the 
Indians  and  rid  himself  of  those  chiefs  who  opposed 
his  rule.  So  he  had  his  brother  declare  himself  a 
prophet  or  Messiah,  and,  stating  that  he  had  come 
to  restore  the  former  prestige  of  the  red  men  and  make 
them  again  great,  he  soon  had  great  influence  among 
the  credulous  Senecas. 

But  now  the  evil  designs  of  Corn  Planter  came  to  a 
head.  The  Prophet  declared  that  several  members  of 
the  tribe  were  wizards  or  magicians,  and  among  them 
Red  Jacket  was  named  as  the  chief  offender.  He  was 
publicly  denounced  by  those  influenced  by  the  Prophet, 
who,  at  a  great  Indian  council,  declared  that  he  should 
be  put  to  death.  At  this  crisis  Red  Jacket  knew  that 
his  safety  and  life  itself  depended  upon  his  intellectual 
powers,  and  so  determined  to  make  use  of  the  greatest 
oratorical  efforts  that  he  was  capable  of.  Appearing 
before  the  assembled  Indians,  he  rose  majestically  before 
them,  and  throwing  back  his  blanket  said  in  part: 

''Brothers,  you  accuse  me  of  being  a  Wizard  and 
Sorcerer.  This  Prophet,  the  brother  of  Corn  Planter, 
has  told  you  that  I  am  a  man  of  evil  thoughts  and  would 
work  you  ill.  It  is  an  untruth.  Never  since  I  was 
a  small  boy  have  I  thought  evil  of  any  of  my  own  race, 
and  never  since  I  came  of  age  have  I  ever  labored  for 


234         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

anything  but  the  good  of  my  people.  How  can  I,  who 
have  loved  you  at  a  peace  all  these  years,  have  married 
among  you,  have  brought  up  my  children  among  you, 
how  can  I,  I  say,  wish  ill  to  the  people  whom  I  have 
starved,  slept  and  feasted  with?  Brothers,  you  know 
that  in  the  treaty  at  Fort  Stanwix  I  was  for  war,  while 
Corn  Planter  was  for  peace  and  wished  to  give  over  our 
lands  to  the  whites.  You  see  how  you  have  fared  by 
following  his  advice.  You  are  now  poor,  without  hunt 
ing  ground,  and  the  white  men  have  your  best  lands. 
Had  you  stood  by  me,  and  had  you  waged  war  upon 
the  whites,  we  would  have  defeated  them,  driven  them 
from  our  borders,  and  we  would  now  have  good  grounds 
to  live  upon.  You  see  how  following  this  man's  advice 
has  served  us." 

This  he  continued  for  three  hours,  at  the  end  of  which 
time  he  had  fully  persuaded  the  Indians  that  the  Prophet 
was  an  imposter  and  fraud,  that  Corn  Planter  should  be 
deposed,  and  that  he  himself  should  be  freed  from 
all  charges  against  himself.  The  savages  had  all  been 
in  favor  of  his  death,  but,  swayed  by  this  masterful 
eloquence,  a  portion  of  their  numbers  came  to  his  way 
of  thinking,  and  when  a  vote  was  taken  in  regard  to 
what  disposition  should  be  made  of  him,  their  numbers 
were  sufficient  to  set  him  free.  Corn  Planter's  influence 
was  at  an  end,  and  soon  Red  Jacket  was  foremost  in 
the  councils  of  those  of  his  own  nationality.  The 
masterful  power  of  oratory  had  won  him  the  foremost 
position  in  his  own  tribe. 

The  Indians,  in  fact,  had  fared  ill  for  the  part  that 
they  had  taken  in  the  American  Revolution,  between 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  235 

the  American  Colonists  of  New  York  and  the  British. 
Influenced  by  the  Iroquois  and  their  powerful  ally, 
Captain  Joseph  Brant — the  great  war  chief  of  the  Mo 
hawks — they  had  thrown  in  their  lot  with  the  English 
troops.  Red  Jacket  had  eloquently  plead  with  his 
people  to  remain  neutral.  "Let  these  whites  fight  it 
out  among  themselves,"  he  had  said,  "  while  we  remain 
upon  our  own  lands  and  take  care  of  ourselves.  What 
have  the  English  done  for  us?  What  will  they  do  for 
us  if  they  win,  but  insist  upon  a  division  of  our  land?" 
He  here  rose  to  his  fullest  height,  (for  he  was  in  the 
council  chamber)  and  pointed  to  the  winding  current 
of  the  Mohawk.  "Why  should  we  leave  our  beautiful 
country  by  the  shimmering  waters  of  the  river  which 
we  love,  in  order  to  become  killed,  maimed  and  home 
less  for  the  sake  of  our  white  brothers?  Why  should  we 
give  up  everything  for  these  men,  I  say,  when  we  are 
happy  and  peaceful  here?  It  is  none  of  our  quarrel. 
Let  us  rest." 

In  spite  of  this  appeal  his  own  warriors  would  not 
listen  to  his  words  of  advice  and  called  him  a  coward, 
and  also  the  "  cow-killer."  With  smirks  and  grimaces 
they  would  often  tell  how  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war 
the  young  chief  had  exhorted  all  about  him  to  be  filled 
with  valor  and  courage,  to  march  forth  valiantly  to 
wards  the  enemy,  for  he,  himself,  would  be  there  in  the 
thickest  of  the  fighting.  Stirred  by  his  address,  the 
warriors  were  soon  engaged  in  battle,  but  when  they 
looked  for  the  orator  he  was  missing.  In  vain  they 
searched  tor  him  at  the  close  of  hostilities,  and, 
at  last,  found  him  cutting  up  a  cow  which  he  had  cap- 


236         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

tared  near  the  Indian  village.  This  story  was  spread 
broadcast,  it  caused  great  amusement,  and  many  a 
Seneca  was  heard  to  say:  " Sa-go-ye-wat-ha,  he  talk 
much,  but  he  no  back  up  his  big  words." 

At  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  however, 
these  warriors  who  had  previously  reviled  the  sage 
counsellor  of  the  Senecas  wished  that  they  had  listened 
more  favorably  to  his  advice.  The  British  army  of 
invasion  under  Burgoyne  which  the  Senecas  and  Mo 
hawks  allied  themselves  with,  was  badly  whipped  at 
Saratoga,  and  those  who  were  not  captured  fled  to 
Canada.  The  country  came  into  the  possession  of  the 
American  troops;  the  Mohawks  emigrated  to  Canadian 
soil,  where  they  were  given  no  aid  by  the  English,  and 
the  Senecas  were  treated  in  a  high-handed  manner  by 
the  victorious  sons  of  New  England.  Many  of  the 
members  of  this  powerful  tribe  perished  in  the  battles 
around  Saratoga,  and,  as  they  were  fighting  for  a  cause 
which  they  did  not  understand,  it  soon  became  apparent 
to  them  that  they  should  have  followed  the  advice  of  the 
great  orator.  Too  late  they  realized  that  the  old  adage 
was  true,  which  runs,  "A  prudent  man  foreseeth  the  evil 
and  hideth  himself,  but  the  simple  pass  on  and  are 
punished." 

From  the  close  of  the  American  Revolution  to  the 
outbreak  of  the  war  of  1812,  the  Senecas  lived  in  peace 
and  seclusion  upon  their  lands.  President  George 
Washington  extended  to  them  the  hand  of  friendship 
and  offered  them  protection  from  their  enemies  if  they 
would  sign  a  treaty  with  him.  This  they  did,  and  the 
great  American  leader  filled  a  place  in  their  affections 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  237 

which  has  never  been  equalled  by  any  white  man,  save 
Roger  Williams  or  William  Penn.  So  strong  was  the 
influence  of  the  " Father  of  his  Country"  among  them, 
that  in  subsequent  disturbances  in  their  dominions  the 
Senecas  either  remained  neutral  or  else  were  loyal  to 
the  Americans  and  their  interests.  Red  Jacket  himself 
was  one  of  fifty  chiefs  who  journeyed  to  Philadelphia  to 
visit  Washington  in  1792,  where  he  was  presented  with 
a  silver  medal  on  which  the  President,  in  military 
uniform,  was  represented  as  handing  a  long  peace  pipe 
to  an  Indian  chief  with  a  scalp-lock  decorated  with 
plumes  on  the  top  of  his  head,  while  a  white  man  was 
ploughing  with  a  yoke  of  oxen  in  the  background — a 
hint  to  the  Indians  to  abandon  war  and  adopt  the  peace 
ful  pursuits  of  agriculture.  Red  Jacket  accepted  this 
with  much  pleasure,  prized  it  very  highly,  and  wore  it 
on  all  occasions  of  state. 

When  war  broke  out  between  the  Americans  and 
British  in  1812,  the  Senecas  immediately  offered  their 
services  to  their  American  neighbors.  But  their  proffer 
of  aid  was  rejected,  and  every  effort  was  made  to  induce 
them  to  remain  neutral.  The  Indians  did  not  care  for 
such  treatment,  but  said  nothing.  At  last,  in  the  sum 
mer  of  1812,  the  English  troops  took  possession  of  Grand 
Island,  in  the  Niagara  River,  and  this  was  a  valuable 
possession  of  the  Senecas.  Immediately,  therefore, 
they  were  anxious  for  war,  a  council  was  called,  the 
American  Indian  Agent  was  summoned  to  attend,  and 
Red  Jacket  arose  to  address  him. 

"Brother,"  he  said,  "you  have  told  us  that  we  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  war  between  you  and  the  British. 


238         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

But  the  war  has  come  to  our  doors.  Our  property  is 
seized  by  the  British  and  their  Indian  friends.  It  is 
necessary  for  us  then  to  go  to  war.  We  must  defend 
our  property.  We  must  drive  the  enemy  from  our  soil. 
If  we  sit  still  on  our  lands  and  take  no  means  of  redress, 
the  British,  following  the  custom  of  you  white  people, 
will  hold  them  by  conquest,  and  you,  if  you  conquer 
Canada,  will  claim  them  on  the  same  principles,  as  con 
quered  from  the  British.  Brother,  we  wish  to  go  with 
our  warriors  and  drive  off  these  bad  people  and  take 
possession  of  those  lands." 

Such  was  the  effect  of  this  outburst  of  oratory  upon 
his  hearers  that  a  grand  council  of  the  Six  Nations  soon 
came  together  and  issued  a  manifesto  against  the  British 
in  Canada.  "We,  the  chiefs  and  counsellors  of  the 
Six  Nations  of  Indians,  residing  in  the  State  of  New 
York,  do  hereby  proclaim  to  all  the  war  chiefs  and 
warriors  of  the  Six  Nations,  that  war  is  declared  on  our 
part  against  the  provinces  of  Upper  and  Lower  Canada/' 
ran  this  call  to  arms. 

"Therefore,  we  do  hereby  command  and  advise  all 
the  war  chiefs  to  call  forth  immediately  all  the  warriors 
under  them  and  put  them  in  motion  to  protect  their 
rights  and  liberties,  which  our  brethren,  the  Americans, 
are  now  defending." 

Soon  about  three  thousand  warriors  were  in  the 
field,  eager  and  willing  to  assist  the  American  troops 
under  General  Boyd,  who  advanced  into  the  State  of 
New  York  to  battle  with  the  British.  On  August 
13th  a  fierce  fight  took  place  at  Fort  George,  in  which 
the  British  were  badly  routed  and  a  number  of  the 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  239 

British  Indians  were  captured  by  the  Senecas  under 
Red  Jacket. 

"The  bravery  and  humanity  of  the  Indians  were 
equally  conspicuous/'  says  General  Boyd  in  his  dispatch. 
"They  behaved  with  great  gallantry." 

After  the  battle  the  Senecas  neither  scalped  nor 
murdered  the  dead,  which  was  most  extraordinary  for 
Indians.  But  at  a  council  held  the  day  before  the 
battle,  they  had  agreed  not  to  follow  their  usual  custom— 
a  method  of  procedure  which  Red  Jacket  strongly  ad 
vocated.  He,  himself,  fought  courageously  with  his 
followers ;  was  seen  to  lead  a  charge  more  than  once ;  and 
certainly  did  away  with  any  notions  which  his  braves 
might  have  entertained  regarding  his  lack  of  courage  in 
battle.  "Cow-killer"  he  was  named  no  longer,  and, 
after  the  conclusion  of  peace  between  the  English  and 
Americans,  he  began  with  accustomed  energy  to  again 
direct  the  civil  interests  of  the  Senecas. 

Numerous  white  missionaries  now  came  to  the  coun 
try  of  the  Indians,  endeavoring  as  well  as  they  could  to 
establish  Christianity  among  the  savages.  One  of 
these — a  missionary  named  Cram — made  a  long  speech 
to  the  Senecas,  telling  them  that  there  was  but  one  religion, 
and  unless  they  adopted  it  they  could  not  prosper;  that 
they  had  lived  all  their  lives  in  darkness;  and  that  his 
object  in  talking  to  them  was  not  to  get  away  their 
lands,  or  money,  but  to  turn  them  towards  the  true 
Gospel.  Finally,  he  asked  them  to  state  their  objec 
tions,  if  they  had  any,  to  the  adoption  of  his  religion. 

He  closed  his  address  with  a  strong  appeal  to  their 
reasoning  powers,  and,  after  he  had  finished  speaking,  the 


240         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Seneca  Chiefs  retired  for  a  conference.  After  several 
hours  of  talking,  Red  Jacket  came  from  the  tent  in  which 
they  had  been  seated,  and  striding  forward,  delivered 
the  following  speech,  which  stands  as  one  of  the  great 
est  examples  of  Indian  eloquence  that  is  known  to 
history. 

" Friend  and  Brother!"  he  began.  "It  was  the  will 
of  the  Great  Spirit  that  we  should  meet  together  this  day. 
He  orders  all  things,  and  he  has  given  us  a  fine  day  for 
our  council.  He  has  taken  his  garment  from  before 
the  sun  and  has  caused  the  bright  orb  to  shine  with 
brightness  upon  us.  Our  eyes  are  opened  so  that  we 
see  clearly.  Our  ears  are  unstopped  so  that  we  have 
been  able  to  distinctly  hear  the  words  which  you  have 
spoken.  For  all  these  favors  we  thank  the  Great  Spirit 
and  him  only. 

"Brother!  This  council  fire  was  kindled  by  you.  It 
was  at  your  request  that  we  came  together  at  this  time. 
We  have  listened  with  attention  to  what  you  have  said. 
You  have  requested  us  to  speak  our  minds  freely.  This 
gives  us  great  joy,  for  we  now  consider  that  we  stand 
upright  before  you,  and  can  speak  what  we  think. 
All  have  heard  your  voice  and  all  speak  to  you  as  one 
man.  Our  minds  are  agreed. 

"Brother!  You  say  that  you  want  an  answer  to  your 
talk  before  you  leave  this  place.  It  is  right  that  you 
should  have  one,  as  you  are  a  great  distance  from  home, 
and  we  do  not  wish  to  detain  you.  But  we  will  first 
look  back  a  little,  and  tell  you  what  our  fathers 
have  told  us,  and  what  we  have  heard  from  the  white 
people. 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  241 

" Brother!  Listen  to  what  we  say.  There  was  a 
time  when  our  forefathers  owned  this  great  island 
(meaning  the  continent  of  North  America — a  common 
belief  among  the  Indians).  Their  seats  extended  from 
the  rising  to  the  setting  of  the  sun.  The  Great  Spirit 
had  made  it  for  the  use  of  Indians.  He  had  created 
the  buffalo,  the  deer,  and  other  animals  for  food.  He 
made  the  bear  and  the  deer,  and  their  skins  served  us 
for  clothing.  He  had  scattered  them  over  the  country, 
and  had  taught  us  how  to  take  them.  He  had  caused 
the  earth  to  produce  corn  for  bread.  All  this  he  had 
done  for  his  red  children  because  he  loved  them.  If 
we  had  any  disputes  about  hunting  grounds,  they  were 
generally  settled  without  the  shedding  of  much  blood. 
But  an  evil  day  came  upon  us.  Your  forefathers 
crossed  the  great  waters  and  landed  on  this  island.  Their 
numbers  were  small.  They  found  friends  and  not 
enemies.  They  told  us  they  had  fled  from  their  own 
country  for  fear  of  wicked  men,  and  had  come  here  to 
enjoy  their  religion.  They  asked  for  a  small  seat.  We 
took  pity  on  them,  granted  their  request  and  they  sat 
down  amongst  us.  We  gave  them  corn  and  meat. 
They  gave  us  poison  (spirituous  liquor)  in  return.  The 
white  people  had  now  found  our  country.  Tidings  were 
carried  back  and  more  came  amongst  us.  Yet  we  did 
not  fear  them.  We  took  them  to  be  friends.  They 
called  us  brothers.  We  believed  them  and  gave  them 
a  large  seat.  At  length  their  numbers  had  greatly 
increased.  They  wanted  more  land.  They  wanted  our 
country.  Our  eyes  were  opened,  and  our  minds  became 
uneasy.  Wars  took  place.  Indians  were  hired  to  fight 


242          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

against  Indians,  and  many  of  our  people  were  destroyed. 
They  also  brought  strong  liquors  among  us.  It  was 
strong  and  powerful  and  has  slain  thousands. 

" Brother!  Our  seats  were  once  large,  and  yours  were 
very  small.  You  have  now  become  a  great  people,  and 
we  have  scarcely  a  place  left  to  spread  our  blankets. 
You  have  got  our  country,  but  you  are  not  satisfied. 
You  want  to  force  your  religion  upon  us. 

" Brother!  Continue  to  listen.  You  say  that  you 
are  sent  to  instruct  us  how  to  worship  the  Great  Spirit 
agreeably  to  his  mind;  and  if  we  do  not  take  hold  of  the 
religion  which  you  white  people  teach  we  shall  be  un 
happy  hereafter.  You  say  that  you  are  right,  and  we 
are  lost.  How  do  we  know  this  to  be  true?  We  under 
stand  that  your  religion  is  written  in  a  book.  If  it  was 
intended  for  us  as  well  as  for  you,  why  has  not  the  Great 
Spirit  given  it  to  us;  and  not  only  to  us,  but  why  did 
he  not  give  to  our  forefathers  the  knowledge  of  that 
book,  with  the  means  of  understanding  it  rightly?  We 
only  know  what  you  tell  us  about  it.  How  shall  we 
know  when  to  believe,  being  so  often  deceived  by  the 
white  people? 

" Brother!  You  say  there  is  but  one  way  to  worship 
and  serve  the  Great  Spirit.  If  there  is  but  one  religion, 
why  do  you  white  people  differ  so  much  about  it?  Why 
not  all  agree,  as  you  can  all  read  the  book? 

" Brother!  We  do  not  understand  these  things. 
We  are  told  that  your  religion  was  given  to  your  fore 
fathers  and  has  been  handed  down,  father  to  son.  We 
also  have  a  religion  which  was  given  to  our  forefathers, 
and  has  been  handed  down  to  us,  their  children.  We 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR    243 

worship  that  way.  It  teaches  us  to  be  thankful  for  all 
the  favors  we  receive,  to  love  each  other,  and  to  be 
united.  We  never  quarrel  about  religion. 

" Brother!  The  Great  Spirit  has  made  us  all.  But 
he  has  made  a  great  difference  between  his  white  and 
red  children.  He  has  given  us  a  different  complexion 
and  different  customs.  To  you  he  has  given  the  arts; 
to  these  he  has  not  opened  our  eyes.  We  know  these 
things  to  be  true.  Since  he  has  made  so  great  a  differ 
ence  between  us  in  other  things,  why  may  not  we  con 
clude  that  he  has  given  us  a  different  religion,  according 
to  our  understanding?  The  Great  Spirit  does  right. 
He  knows  what  is  best  for  his  children.  We  are  satis 
fied. 

" Brother!  We  do  not  wish  to  destroy  your  religion, 
or  to  take  it  from  you.  We  only  want  to  enjoy  OUF 
own. 

" Brother!  You  say  you  have  not  come  to  get  our 
land  or  our  money,  but  to  enlighten  our  minds.  I  will 
now  tell  you  that  I  have  been  at  your  meetings  and  saw 
you  collecting  money  from  the  meeting.  I  cannot  tell 
what  this  money  was  intended  for,  but  suppose  it  was 
for  your  minister;  and  if  we  should  conform  to  your 
way  of  thinking,  perhaps  you  may  want  some  from  us. 

" Brother!  We  are  told  that  you  have  been  preach 
ing  to  white  people  in  this  place.  These  people  are  our 
neighbors.  We  are  acquainted  with  them.  We  will 
wait  a  little  while,  and  see  what  effect  your  preaching 
has  upon  them.  If  we  find  it  does  them  good  and  makes 
them  honest  and  less  disposed  to  cheat  Indians,  we  will 
then  consider  again  what  you  have  said. 


244          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"Brother!  You  have  now  heard  our  answer  to 
your  talk,  and  this  is  all  we  have  to  say  at  present.  As 
we  are  going  to  part,  we  will  come  and  take  you  by 
the  hand,  and  hope  the  Great  Spirit  will  protect  you  on 
your  journey,  and  return  you  safe  to  your  friends." 

There  is  little  doubt  that  Red  Jacket  appreciated 
his  own  prowess  to  the  full  and  realized  what  a  wonder 
ful  control  he  had  over  his  followers.  In  the  council 
chamber  he  was  supreme  and  usually  was  able  to  sway 
the  feelings  of  his  hearers  in  whatever  direction  he 
wished.  Some  one  inquired  one  day  what  deeds  of 
blood  he  had  done  in  order  to  make  himself  a  true 
warrior  among  the  Senecas,  and  to  this  he  replied:  "A 
warrior!  I  am  an  orator!  I  was  born  an  orator." 

A  young  French  nobleman  visited  Buffalo  about 
1815,  and  hearing  of  the  wonderful  speaker,  sent  word 
to  Red  Jacket  that  he  wished  to  talk  with  him.  But 
the  oratorical  chief  received  this  message  with  con 
tempt.  "Tell  the  young  man  that  if  he  wishes  to  visit 
the  old  chief  he  will  find  him  with  his  nation,"  said  he, 
"where  other  strangers  pay  their  respect  to  him,  and 
Red  Jacket  will  be  glad  to  see  him."  To  this  the 
Frenchman  sent  back  word  that  he  had  taken  a  long 
journey  and  was  fatigued,  that  he  had  come  all  the  way 
from  France  to  see  the  great  orator  of  the  Seneca  nation 
and  hoped  he  would  not  refuse  to  meet  him  at  Buffalo. 
To  this  the  Seneca  brave  sent  the  following  answer: 
"Tell  him  that  having  come  so  far  to  see  me  it  is  strange 
he  should  stop  within  seven  miles  of  my  lodge."  "By 
Gad,"  said  the  nobleman,  when  this  message  was  de 
livered  to  him,  "such  a  man  of  spirit  must  indeed  be 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR    245 

% 

worth  journeying  to  see/'  and,  without  more  ado,  he 
hastened  to  the  lodge  of  the  sarcastic  Red  Jacket. 
The  Seneca  orator  now  consented  to  dine  with  him  at 
Buffalo,  and,  after  the  repast,  the  enthusiastic  French 
man  exclaimed:  "He  is  a  remarkable  man.  Had  he 
been  white,  he  would  have  one  of  the  greatest  reputa 
tions  of  the  ages.  He  is  a  wonder  greater  than  Niagara 
Falls,  which  I  have  just  visited." 

Shortly  after  this  an  Indian  was  executed  for  the 
murder  of  his  wife,  and  a  great  crowd  journeyed  to  see 
the  hanging.  Red  Jacket,  however,  was  met  going  in 
the  opposite  direction  from  the  scene.  "Why  do  you 
not  go  to  see  this  affair?"  asked  a  friend.  "Fools 
enough  are  there  already,"  replied  the  great  orator. 
"Battle  is  the  proper  place  to  see  men  die." 

"When  I  dined  with  President  Washington,"  said  he 
to  a  gentleman,  "a  man  ran  off  with  my  knife  and 
fork  every  now  and  again,  and  returned  with  others. 
What  was  that  for?" 

"There  are  a  great  many  dishes,"  replied  the  gentle 
man,  "each  cooked  in  a  different  manner.  Every 
time  a  new  dish  is  brought  on  the  table,  the  knives 
and  forks  are  changed." 

"Ah,"  said  Red  Jacket,  thoughtfully,  "is  that  it? 
You  must  then  suppose  that  the  plates  and  knives  and 
forks  retain  the  taste  of  the  cookery?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  white  man. 

"Have  you  then  any  method  by  which  you  can 
change  your  palates  every  time  you  change  your  plates? 
For  I  think  the  taste  would  remain  on  the  palate  longer 
than  it  would  on  the  plate/' 


246          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"We  are  in  the  habit  of  washing  the  taste  on  our 
palates  away  with  wine,"  answered  the  gentleman. 

"Ah,  I  understand!"  ejaculated  Red  Jacket.  "I 
was  persuaded  that  so  general  a  custom  among  you 
must  be  founded  on  reason,  and  I  only  regret  that  when 
I  was  in  Philadelphia  I  did  not  understand  it.  The 
moment  the  man  went  off  with  my  plate,  I  would  have 
drunk  wine  until  he  brought  me  another;  for  although  I 
am  fond  of  eating,  I  am  more  so  of  drinking." 

This  famous  orator  was  not  only  fully  conscious  of  his 
own  ability  to  sway  the  emotions  of  other's,  but  he  had 
his  full  share  of  vanity.  His  forehead  was  lofty  and 
capacious;  his  eye  was  black  and  piercing;  his  nose  was 
sharply  aquiline;  while  his  cheek  was  well  rounded. 
Every  feature  marked  a  man  of  noble  qualities,  while  an 
air  of  dignified  self-possession  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  When  speak 
ing,  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  his  body  was  continually  moving 
in  the  effort  of  speech-making,  while  the  ready  words 
poured  from  his  lips  in  a  steady  stream.  The  cadence 
of  his  speech  was  measured  and  very  musical,  and  when 
excited  he  would  spring  to  his  feet,  elevate  his  head, 
expand  his  arms  and  utter,  with  indescribable  effort 
of  manner  and  tone,  some  great  and  noble  thoughts. 
A  gentleman  of  the  period  has  written:  "It  has  been 
my  good  fortune  to  hear  the  masterful  Red  Jacket  but 
a  few  times  in  late  years  when  his  powers  were  much 
enfeebled  by  old  age  and  intemperance,  but  I  shall  never 
forget  the  impression  made  upon  me  the  first  time  that 
I  saw  him  in  council.  The  English  language  has  no 
figures  to  convey  the  true  meaning  of  his  speech,  and, 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  247 

though  coming  through  the  medium  of  an  illiterate 
interpreter,  I  could  well  realize  that  he  was  giving  me 
a  great  oration." 

The  great  Seneca  was  twice  married,  and,  although 
he  had  a  large  family,  many  of  his  children  died  of  con 
sumption.  A  lady  who  took  an  interest  in  the  Seneca 
Nation  once  asked  him  whether  he  had  any  children 
living.  "Red  Jacket  was  once  a  great  man,  and  was  in 
favor  with  the  Great  Spirit,"  sorrowfully  answered  the 
Chief.  "He  was  a  lofty  pine  among  the  smaller  trees 
of  the  forest,  but  after  years  of  glory  he  degraded  him 
self  by  drinking  the  fire  water  of  the  white  man.  The 
Great  Spirit  has,  therefore,  looked  upon  him  in  anger, 
and  his  lightning  has  stripped  the  pine  of  its  branches 
and  left  standing  only  the  scarred  trunk,  dead  at  the 
top." 

What  the  noted  Seneca  said  of  his  degradation  was 
unfortunately  too  true,  so  true,  in  fact,  that  he  was 
deposed  by  the  members  of  his  tribe  because  of  this 
intemperance.  Several  rival  chiefs  were  jealous  of 
his  position,  which  partly  explained  this  action  of  the 
Senecas,  although  his  opposition  to  the  introduction  of 
the  Christian  religion  into  the  tribe  was  also  a  reason 
for  removing  him  from  the  position  of  Head  Chief. 

Red  Jacket — with  the  true  spirit  of  a  warrior — was 
scarcely  prepared  to  submit  to  such  a  degradation, 
particularly  as  he  knew  that  the  true  motives  of  the 
chiefs  who  had  deposed  him  were  those  of  jealousy. 
He  felt  the  sting  of  shame,  and  remarked  to  one  of  his 
tribe,  with  much  feeling:  "It  shall  not  be  said  that 
Sa-go-ye-wat-ha  lived  in  insignificance  and  died  in 


248         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

dishonor.  Am  I  too  feeble  to  revenge  myself  upon  my 
enemies?  Am  I  not  as  I  have  been?  I  will  call  in  the 
other  tribes  of  the  Six  Nations,  and  we  will  see  whether 
or  no  Red  Jacket  will  be  deposed."  Consequently,  only 
a  month  after  his  deposition,  a  Grand  Council  of  the 
chiefs  of  the  Six  Nations  assembled  together  at  the  upper 
council  house  of  the  Seneca  village  reservation. 

After  all  had  seated  themselves,  the  document  depos 
ing  Red  Jacket  was  read  aloud,  and  then  a  Chief  called 
Half  Town  arose,  and  in  behalf  of  the  Catteraugus 
Indians  (a  tribe  of  the  Six  Nations)  said  that  there  was 
but  one  opinion  in  his  nation,  and  that  was  of  general 
indignation  at  the  ousting  of  Red  Jacket  from  his  po 
sition  as  Chief  Sachem.  Several  other  chiefs  addressed 
the  council  to  the  same  effect,  and,  at  the  close  of  their 
speeches,  the  condemned  orator  arose  very  slowly,  as 
if  grieved  and  humiliated,  but  still  possessing  his  ancient 
air  of  command. 

After  a  solemn  pause  he  began  to  speak.  "My 
brothers,"  said  he,  "you  have  this  day  been  correctly 
informed  of  an  attempt  to  make  me  sit  down  and  throw 
off  the  authority  of  a  chief,  by  twenty-six  misguided 
chiefs  of  my  nation.  You  have  heard  the  statements 
of  my  associates  in  council  and  their  explanations  of 
the  foolish  charges  brought  against  me.  I  have  taken 
the  legal  and  proper  way  to  meet  these  charges.  It  is 
the  only  way  in  which  I  could  notice  them:  charges 
which  I  despise  and  which  nothing  would  induce  me  to 
notice,  but  the  concern  which  many  respected  chiefs  of 
my  nation  feel  in  the  character  of  their  aged  comrade. 
Were  it  otherwise,  I  should  not  be  before  you.  I  would 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  249 

fold  my  arms  and  sit  quietly  under  their  ridiculous 
slander. 

"The  Christian  party  has  not  even  proceeded  legally, 
according  to  our  usages,  to  put  me  down.  Ah!  It 
grieves  my  heart  when  I  look  around  me  and  see  the 
situation  of  my  people,  in  old  times  united  and  power 
ful,  now  divided  and  feeble.  I  feel  sorry  for  my  nation. 
When  I  am  gone  to  the  other  world — when  the  Great 
Spirit  calls  me  away — who  among  my  people  can  take 
my  place?  Many  years  have  I  guided  my  nation." 

He  now  spoke  of  the  attacks  upon  him  and  said  that 
they  were  incited  by  jealousy.  He  alluded  to  the 
course  taken  by  those  of  his  own  tribe  who  had  turned 
Christians  as  being  ruinous  and  disgraceful,  especially 
in  the  abandonment  of  the  religion  of  their  fathers,  and 
their  sacrifice  to  the  whites  for  a  few  trinkets  of  the  land 
left  them  by  their  forefathers.  "I  will  not  consent 
silently  to  be  trampled  under  foot,"  he  concluded. 
"  As  long  as  I  can  raise  my  voice  I  will  oppose  such 
measures.  As  long  as  I  can  stand  in  my  moccasins,  I 
will  do  all  that  I  can  for  my  nation." 

Such  was  the  power  of  the  old  chiefs  oration,  that,  at 
the  close  of  this  speech,  he  was  almost  unanimously  re- 
elected  to  the  position  of  Chief  Sachem,  a  position  which 
he  had  held  for  many  years,  and  which  he  was  now 
to  hold  until  his  death. 

Shortly  after  this  affair  the  great  orator's  second 
wife  joined  the  Christian  Church,  to  which  he,  himself, 
was  opposed.  Consequently  Red  Jacket  immediately 
left  her  and  went  to  live  in  another  Seneca  reservation. 
But  he  was  far  from  happy  when  separated  from  those 


250         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

whom  he  loved,  and  those  whom  he  left  behind  were  far 
from  happy  without  him.  The  old  chief  was  devoted 
to  his  little  daughter,  and  he  missed  her  caresses  and 
love.  At  length,  he  could  stand  the  separation  no 
longer,  and,  through  the  agency  of  this  little  girl,  a 
reconciliation  was  effected  with  his  excellent  squaw. 
Red  Jacket  promised  that  he  would  not  again  interfere 
with  his  wife's  religious  privileges,  and  to  his  credit  be 
it  said  he  never  again  objected  to  her  religion  or  belief. 

There  he  was  living  quietly  and  happily  when  sud 
denly  taken  ill  in  the  council  house,  where  he  had  gone 
one  day,  dressed  with  more  than  usual  care  and  orna 
mented  with  all  his  best  finery.  When  he  returned  to 
his  tepee,  he  said  to  his  wife.  "I  am  ill.  I  could  not 
stay  until  the  council  had  finished.  I  shall  never  re 
cover."  So  saying,  he  took  off  his  rich  dress,  laid  it 
carefully  away,  lay  down  upon  his  couch  and  did  not 
rise  again  until  morning.  His  wife  then  prepared  some 
medicine  for  him,  which  he  patiently  took,  saying:  "It 
will  do  me  no  good.  I  shall  die." 

He  then  requested  his  faithful  squaw  to  send  his  little 
girl  to  him,  and  when  she  had  come  near  he  bade  her  sit 
beside  him  and  listen  to  his  parting  words.  "My  good 
wife,"  said  he,  "I  am  going  to  die.  Never  again  shall 
I  leave  my  home  alive.  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  your 
kindness  to  me.  You  have  loved  me.  You  have  always 
prepared  my  food  and  taken  care  of  my  clothes,  and  been 
patient  with  me.  I  am  sorry  that  I  ever  treated  you 
unkindly.  I  am  sorry  that  I  left  you  because  of  your 
new  religion,  and  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  a  good  re 
ligion  and  has  made  you  a  better  woman,  and  I  wish 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR    251 

you  to  persevere  in  it.  I  should  like  to  have  lived 
a  little  longer  for  your  sake.  I  meant  to  build  you  a 
new  house  and  make  you  more  comfortable,  but  it  is 
now  too  late.  But  I  hope  my  daughter  will  remember 
what  I  have  often  told  her,  not  to  go  in  the  streets  with 
strangers  or  improper  persons.  She  must  stay  at  home 
with  her  mother. 

"When  I  am  dead,  it  will  be  noised  abroad  through 

all  the  world ;  they  will  hear  of  it  across  the  great  waters, 

and  will  say:    'Red  Jacket,  the  great  orator,  is  dead.' 

And  white  men  will  come  and  ask  you  for  my  body. 

They  will  wish  to  bury  me.    But  do  not  let  them  take 

me.     Clothe  me  in  my  simplest  dress,  put  on  my  leggins 

and  my  moccasins,  and  hang  the  cross  which  I  have 

worn  so  long  around  my  neck,  and  let  it  lie  upon  my 

bosom.    Then   bury  me  among  my   people.     Neither 

do  I  wish  to  be  buried  with  Pagan  rites.     I  wish  the 

ceremonies  to  be  as  you  like,  according  to  the  customs 

of  your  new  religion,  if  you  choose.    Your  minister  says 

that  the  dead  will  rise.     Perhaps  they  will.     If  they 

do,  I  wish  to  rise  with  my  old  comrades.     I  do  not  wish 

to  rise  among  palefaces.     I  wish  to  be  surrounded  by 

red  men.     Do  not  make  a  feast  according  to  the  custom 

of  the  Indians.    Whenever  my  friends  chose  they  could 

come  and  feast  with  me  when  I  was  well,  and  I  do  not 

wish  those  who  have  eaten  with  me  in  my  cabin  to 

surfeit  at  my  funeral  feast." 

When  the  great  Chief  had  finished,  he  laid  himself 
upon  his  couch,  took  his  little  daughter  fondly  by  the 
hand,  and  did  not  rise  again.  A  few  days  later  death 
overtook  him,  and  at  his  funeral  many  parties  of  his 


252         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

own  tribe  were  present.  His  body  was  removed  from 
his  cabin  into  the  mission  house,  where  religious  services 
were  performed — services  in  which  the  visiting  Indians 
took  little  interest.  Wrapped  in  profound  and  solemn 
thought,  they  waited  until  the  minister  had  concluded, 
and  then  some  arose  to  address  their  own  countrymen 
in  their  own  language.  Several  orators  recounted  the 
virtues  and  exploits  of  the  dead  Chief,  and  of  the  deeds 
of  their  Great  Nation,  and,  as  they  looked  about  them, 
tears  trickled  down  the  cheeks  of  the  last  of  the  Senecas, 
for  there  around  them  was  only  the  miserable  remnant 
of  a  once  glorious  nation. 

Red  Jacket  was  buried  in  the  little  mission  burying 
ground,  at  the  gateway  of  what  once  had  been  an 
American  fortification.  A  simple  shaft  of  granite  was 
erected  to  mark  his  grave,  and  the  spot  became  a  resort 
for  travellers  from  far  and  near.  Upon  the  tombstone 
was  cut  the  following  inscription : 


Sa-Go-Ye-Wat-Ha 

The  Keeper  Awake 

Red  Jacket 

Chief  of  the 

Wolf  Tribe  of  the  Senecas. 

Died  Jan.  20,  1830 

Age,  78  years. 


This  headstone  was  desecrated  by  relic  hunters  until 
the  name  disappeared  from  the  marble.  The  famous 
chieftain's  body  was  afterwards  removed  to  Buffalo, 
where,  at  the  home  of  his  own  people,  it  remained  un- 
buried  for  many  years,  as  they — knowing  that  his  last 


RED  JACKET:  GREAT  ORATOR  253 

wish  was  not  to  rise  among  the  palefaces — did  not  care 
to  allow  him  to  lie  among  the  members  of  a  race  which 
he  disliked. 

Recently  a  splendid  monument  has  been  erected  to 
the  great  Seneca  at  Buffalo.  A  statue  on  top  of  the 
shaft  is  a  fitting  tribute  to  this  great  orator  of  the  red 
skins,  this  man  of  masterful  speech  and  noble  form,  who 
— like  Daniel  Webster — could  sway  the  thoughts  of  his 
hearers  by  the  magic  of  his  utterance  and  the  fascination 
of  his  thought.  His  body  now  rests  among  those  of  a 
different  race,  but  his  name  still  lives  in  the  annals  of 
American  history  as  the  one  Chief  whose  logic  and 
reasoning  was,  in  a  measure,  equal  to  that  of  the  all- 
conquering  Anglo-Saxons. 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT:  THE  WAR 
RIOR  CHIEF  OF  THE  MOHAWKS 

IN  the  State  of  New  York,  the  Mohawk  Valley  is  one 
of  the  most  fertile  and  productive  spots.  Here 
are  rolling  fields  of  grain;  wide  orchards  of  apples, 
pears,  and  cherries;  crystal  streams  and  forests  of  noble 
trees.  The  soil  is  dark  and  loamy,  and  rich  in  nutritious 
salts.  It  is  the  garden  spot  of  that  great  and  populous 
state,  and  here  the  farmers  are  well  content  to  remain 
upon  their  ancestral  acreage  and  to  reside  in  their  com 
fortable  houses.  They  are  a  happy  people,  blessed 
with  climate  and  natural  resources  that  are  unsur 
passed. 

But  this  fruitful  vale  was  not  always  in  the  hands 
of  the  descendants  of  Scotch,  English  and  Irish  fore 
bears.  The  Mohawk  Indians  once  roamed  at  will  in 
this  splendid  country,  here  erected  their  wigwams 
where  the  game  was  most  plentiful,  and  here  planted 
orchards  of  apples  and  pears.  The  struggle  for  the 
possession  of  the  ground  was  long  and  bitter.  Hun 
dreds  gave  up  their  lives  in  the  wars  which  ravaged  the 
fertile  valley,  and  where  now  one  hears  but  the  songs 
of  robins,  of  orioles,  and  of  thrushes,  once  echoed  the 
screams  of  dying  men,  of  women,  and  children,  who 
battled  for  the  lands  of  the  MohawK.  The  waters  of  the 
tributaries  of  the  rippling  stream  once  ran  red  with  the 

254 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BE  ANT    255 

blood  of  contending  armies  of  white  men  and  of  thos." 
of  another  color. 

A  famous  Chief — King  Hendrick — ruled  over  the1 
destinies  of  the  Mohawk  Indians  when  Sir  William 
Johnson,  an  Irish  Baronet,  obtained  a  grant  to  a  great 
tract  of  territory  here,  and  came  to  live  in  America. 
By  right  of  conquest  the  English  claimed  possession 
of  this  soil,  and  by  right  of  conquest  the  King  deeded 
it  to  anyone  whom  he  chose  to  make  a  present  to.  Sir 
William  built  a  fine  house  and  treated  the  Indians  so 
well  that  they  came  to  like  him  and  would  often  visit 
him  in  great  numbers. 

King  Hendrick  was  one  day  at  the  Baronet's  house, 
and  seeing  a  richly  embroidered  coat  lying  across  a  chair, 
he  had  a  strong  desire  to  possess  it.  So  upon  the  follow 
ing  morning  he  went  up  to  Sir  William  and  said: 

"Brother,  me  dream  last  night  a  big  dream." 

"Really,  Hendrick,"  replied  Sir  William.  "And 
what,  pray,  did  my  red  brother  dream?" 

The  King  of  the  Mohawks  pointed  to  the  embroidered 
coat. 

"Me  dream  that  the  big  coat  was  mine." 

Sir  William  smiled.  "It  is  yours,"  said  he.  "Take 
it  and  wear  it  as  a  proof  of  my  friendship  for  you." 

Not  long  afterwards  the  jovial  Baronet  visited  the 
wigwams  of  the  Mohawks,  and,  after  lighting  the  peace 
pipe,  spoke  to  King  Hendrick  in  the  following  manner. 

"Great  Sachem,"  said  he,  "I  had  a  big  dream  last 
night." 

"Ugh!  Ugh!"  grunted  the  Mohawk  brave.  "What 
did  my  paleface  brother  dream?" 


256         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

The  Irishman  took  up  a  stick  and  drew  with  it  upon 
the  ground.  "I  dreamed  that  this  tract  of  land  was 
mine,"  said  he,  describing  a  square  bounded  on  the 
south  by  the  Mohawk  river,  on  the  east  by  Canada 
Creek,  and  on  the  north  and  west  by  some  well-known 
hills.  "  And  I  would  like  to  have  my  red-skinned  brother 
present  it  to  me." 

Old  Hendrick  was  completely  undone,  for  he  saw  that 
this  request  covered  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  acres  of 
the  finest  territory  in  his  possession.  But  he  remem 
bered  the  gift  of  that  splendid  scarlet  coat,  and,  as  he 
thought  over  the  matter,  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  request  was  not,  after  all,  such  a  great  one.  Finally 
he  arose  and  stretched  out  his  right  arm  in  the  direction 
of  the  territory  which  the  Irishman  wanted. 

"Brother,"  said  he,  "the  land  is  yours,  but  you  must 
never  dream  again." 

Shortly  afterwards  the  title  to  this  property  was  con 
firmed  by  the  British  Government,  and  the  tract  was 
called  the  Royal  Grant.  Sir  William  thus  became  one 
of  the  largest  landholders  in  America  and  one  of  the 
most  prominent  Englishmen  on  the  frontier.  He 
trafficked  with  the  Senecas  and  Mohawks,  made  a  large 
fortune,  and  soon  erected  another  mansion,  called 
"The  Castle."  Here  he  lived  with  a  fair-haired  German 
girl  whom  he  had  married,  and  was  happy  and  con 
tented  until  her  death.  She  left  him  with  three  small 
children — one  a  boy,  John,  and  the  others  daughters. 

Not  long  after  his  wife's  death  Sir  William  went  to  a 
muster  of  the  county  militia.  A  pretty,  daring  Mohawk 
girl  of  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  called  Mollie  Brant, 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         257 

stood  among  the  crowd  of  spectators,  and,  engaging  in 
some  banter  with  a  field  officer,  asked  if  she  might  mount 
his  horse.  Not  dreaming,  for  an  instant,  that  the  girl 
could  do  it,  the  officer  gave  his  permission,  and  in  a 
second  the  girl  had  sprung  to  the  crupper  behind  the 
soldier,  and  they  both  dashed  gayly  over  the  parade 
ground,  while  the  maiden's  bright  blanket  flapped 
wildly  in  the  wind.  All  laughed  at  this  show  of  feminine 
bravery,  and  Colonel  Johnson  was  so  much  struck  with 
the  beauty  of  the  Indian  maid  that  he  requested  that  he 
be  presented  to  her. 

Shortly  afterwards  Sir  William  asked  the  Indian  beau 
ty  to  go  with  him  to  his  home  and  become  its  mistress, 
a  request  which  she  was  only  too  willing  to  accede  to. 
For  the  remainder  of  his  life  Molly  Brant  lived  with  him ; 
an  alliance  which  greatly  pleased  the  Indians  and 
strengthened  his  influence  over  them.  Johnson  Hall 
and  Johnson  Castle  wTere  always  open  to  the  coming  and 
going  of  crowds  of  red  men.  Sir  William  attended  their 
councils,  danced  in  their  wild  dances,  played  their 
games,  and  joined  with  them  in  all  their  wild  sports. 
He  was  given  an  Indian  name,  was  formally  adopted 
into  the  Mohawk  nation,  and  was  made  a  war  chief. 
Frequently  he  would  wear  the  dress  of  the  redskins, 
would  paint  his  face,  dress  his  head  with  eagle  feathers, 
and  would  march  with  great  dignity  and  gravity  into 
Albany  at  the  head  of  his  adopted  people. 

The  brother  of  Molly  Brant  was  called  Thay-en-da- 
negea,  or  Joseph,  and  he  was  born  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Ohio  River  when  the  Mohawks  had  journeyed 
thither  upon  a  hunting  expedition.  The  father  of  this 


258         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

noted  warrior  had  the  extraordinary  title  of  Te-ho- 
wagh-wen-gara-gh-kwin;  and,  although  his  name  is 
not  particularly  beautiful,  it  is  said  that  he  was  a  Chief 
of  poetic  nature  and  that  he  would  often  recite  the 
following  legend  concerning  the  ancestry  of  his  famous 
son  and  daughter. 

"Many  years  in  the  past  when  the  beautiful  Mohawk 
River  was  broader  than  at  present,  and  when  the  falls 
were  more  lofty,  a  feud  arose  between  two  young  chiefs 
of  the  respective  clans  of  the  Mohawk  nation,  the  Wolf 
and  the  Tortoise.  The  cause  of  the  trouble  was  a  maiden 
of  the  Bear  totem,  for  she  was  loved  by  the  two  youth 
ful  braves  of  the  Wolf  and  the  Tortoise,  and  both  desired 
to  make  her  his  wife.  Each  was  a  noble  young  man,  for 
each  had  fought  the  Mingoes  and  the  Mohegans  and 
each  considered  that  he  had  shown  sufficient  bravery 
to  win  the  hand  of  the  beautiful  young  maiden. 

"  Finally  the  maiden  decided  to  bestow  her  hand  upon 
the  warrior  of  the  Wolf  totem,  and  she  promised  him  that 
she  would  become  his  bride.  But  when  this  decision 
was  brought  to  the  ears  of  the  Tortoise,  his  heart  burned 
with  jealousy,  and  he  determined  to  carry  off  the  beauti 
ful  girl  by  force.  So  he  persuaded  her  one  night  to  go 
with  him  to  a  verdant  island  in  the  river,  where  there 
was  a  cooling  spring,  where  the  fireflies  lighted  the  way 
with  their  lamps,  and  where  the  whippoorwills  sang  their 
evening  serenades.  They  launched  into  the  stream,  but, 
instead  of  paddling  to  the  island,  the  warrior  of  the 
Tortoise  clan  steered  his  canoe  far  down  the  stream, 
and  suddenly  wheeling  aside  landed  at  the  mouth  of 
a  cavern  known  only  to  himself.  Springing  ashore,  he 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         259 

carried  the  unwilling  maid  inside,  where  the  floor  was 
covered  with  rushes  and  skins  of  wild  beasts,  and  where 
an  abundance  of  provisions  was  stored.  A  fierce 
cataract  was  near  by,  so  that  anyone  leaving  by  a  canoe 
would  be  swept  away  and  drowned  in  its  boiling  flood. 
But  in  the  top  of  the  cave  was  an  exit,  known  alone  to 
the  Tortoise. 

"In  the  cave  lived  the  maiden  for  many  months,  un 
happy,  weeping,  and  sad.  But  he  of  the  Wolf  clan  was 
upon  her  trail,  and  one  day — while  hunting  in  the  woods 
in  search  of  game — he  saw  the  canoe  at  the  mouth  of 
the  cave  and  knew  that  she  whom  he  loved  must  be 
inside.  The  evening  was  clear  and  a  full  moon  shed  its 
lustre  over  the  woodland  as  the  Wolf  crept  to  the  mouth 
of  the  cavern  and  saw  the  Tortoise  sleeping  lightly  upon 
a  bearskin.  Dropping  to  his  side,  he  struck  him  with 
his  knife.  In  a  moment  the  warrior  was  upon  his  feet, 
but,  unable  to  find  his  hatchet  in  the  dark,  he  bounded 
through  the  opening  at  the  top  of  the  cavern  and  rolled 
a  huge  stone  over  the  exit. 

"The  lovers  embraced  in  momentary  joy,  but  it  was 
brief,  as  they  realized  that  they  were  trapped  in  the  cave, 
and  that  soon  the  Tortoise  would  be  back  again  to  slay 
them,  accompanied  by  other  warriors  of  his  clan.  There 
was  but  one  chance  to  escape — to  plunge  through  the  roar 
ing  cataract  in  the  canoe  and  to  endeavor  to  cross  the 
boiling  rapids  in  safety.  So  with  an  affectionate  em 
brace,  they  leaped  into  the  frail  barque  and  pointed  it 
towards  the  frothing  spume  of  the  waterfall.  In  an 
instant  they  were  being  hurled  through  space  in  the 
awful  current  of  the  water.  But  the  Great  Spirit  was 


260          FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

with  them,  and  down  the  broad  stream  they  glided,  far 
away  to  the  margin  of  a  lake,  where  they  landed,  built 
a  tepee  and  lived  for  two  generations.  Here  they  saw 
their  own  children  and  their  childrens'  children  go  out 
to  war  and  to  the  chase.  Here  was  born  the  father  of 
Joseph  and  Molly  Brant,  the  first,  the  strong  Wolf  of  the 
Mohawks,  the  second,  the  distinguished  wife  of  the  great 
Englishman,  Sir  William  Johnson/' 

Thay-en-da-negea  means  a  bundle  of  sticks,  but  why 
the  future  Chieftain  of  the  Mohawks  was  called  by  this 
name  it  is  difficult  to  know.  Sir  William  Johnson 
naturally  took  a  great  interest  in  him  and  sent  him  to 
school  at  Lebanon,  Connecticut,  where  he  was  taught  by 
a  good  old  minister,  called  the  Rev.  Eleazer  Wheelock, 
and  received  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  English 
language.  "  Joseph  is  indeed  an  excellent  youth," 
wrote  the  aged  minister  to  Sir  William.  "He  is  always 
well,  is  studious  and  diligent." 

When  thirteen  years  of  age,  war  broke  out  between 
the  French  and  English  colonies  in  America,  which  re 
sulted  in  the  conquest  of  Canada.  With  two  of  his 
brothers,  Joseph  Brant  was  present  at  the  fighting 
around  Crown  Point  in  1755.  He  confessed  that  he 
was  seized  with  fear  and  trembling  at  the  first  firing,  and 
was  obliged  to  take  hold  of  a  small  sapling,  but  recovered 
his  courage  and  fought  bravely  during  the  rest  of  the 
day,  seeking  to  win  the  reputation  of  a  brave  man,  so 
highly  prized  by  every  red  man  of  ambition.  Young 
Thay-en-da-negea  was  also  present  at  the  siege  of  Fort 
Niagara  by  Sir  William  Johnson's  men,  and  so  it  can  be 
easily  seen  that  as  a  youth  he  had  a  pretty  thorough 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         261 

education  as  a  warrior;  an  education  which  was  to  stand 
him  in  good  stead  in  the  war  of  the  American  Revolution. 
As  a  school  boy  he  was  restless  and  uneasy,  preferring 
to  hunt  rather  than  study.  He  did  not  graduate,  and, 
after  leaving  the  tuition  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wheelock,  was 
employed  as  an  interpreter  for  a  young  minister  who 
was  devoting  his  life  to  missionary  work  among  the 
Mohawks.  Pontiac's  war  put  an  end  to  this  duty,  and  he 
was  soon  engaged  in  various  forays  against  Indian  tribes 
which  were  upon  the  warpath. 

Brant  was  a  tall,  handsome  young  Indian,  with  a 
lighter  complexion  than  most  of  his  race,  and  a  very 
brilliant  eye.  In  the  light  costume  of  an  Indian  warrior 
he  would  often  creep  with  his  companions  upon  the  war 
parties  of  unfriendly  savages,  kill  those  whom  they 
could,  and,  with  the  prisoners  bound  and  guarded,  would 
march  triumphantly  to  their  own  village,  and  from 
there  to  Johnson  Hall  to  receive  approbation  and  per 
haps  a  reward  from  Sir  William;  for  he  at  one  time 
offered  fifty  dollars  apiece  for  the  heads  of  two  chiefs 
of  the  Delawares.  The  war  was  soon  over,  as  has  been 
shown  in  the  essay  on  Pontiac,  and  young  Brant  was  now 
well  known  as  a  brave,  and  well  on  the  road  to  the 
chieftaincy  in  coming  battles. 

In  1765  the  famous  warrior  married  the  daughter  of 
an  Oneida  chief  and  settled  at  Canajoharie  on  the 
Mohawk  River,  the  middle  town  of  three  Mohawk 
settlements  and  the  home  of  his  childhood.  Here  he 
had  a  comfortable  house  with  all  the  needed  furniture. 
In  1771  his  wife  died  of  consumption,  and  after  this  he 
came  to  live  at  Fort  Hunter,  some  thirty  miles  below 


262         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Canajoharie.  He  also  joined  the  Church  of  England, 
married  his  first  wife's  half-sister,  and  was  living  a  peace 
ful  and  quiet  existence  when  the  storm  of  the  American 
Revolution  broke  over  the  rural  settlements  of  the 
Mohawk. 

There  the  white  settlers  were  not  all  friendly  to  the 
American  Colonists.  Believing  that  they  were  harshly 
used  by  Great  Britain,  and  seeing  that  they  were 
taxed  without  representation,  they  desired  to  cast  off 
the  yoke  of  the  mother  country.  Those  who  did  not 
desire  a  Revolution  were  called  Tories.  Those  who  were 
for  the  American  cause  were  knowrn  as  Whigs.  Sir 
William  Johnson  was  wealthy;  he  was  not  affected  by 
the  English  tax  on  tea;  he  had  received  great  favors 
from  the  mother  country,  and  he,  therefore,  threw  his 
influence  in  behalf  of  King  George:  the  burly  English 
Sovereign  who  was  fully  determined  to  whip  the  Ameri 
cans  into  submission.  Joseph  Brant  was  now  one  of  the 
most  powerful  and  influential  of  the  Iroquois  and  Mo 
hawk  Chiefs.  His  close  allegiance  to  the  hospitable 
Baronet  naturally  made  him  favor  the  same  cause  which 
his  sister's  husband  espoused.  But  before  the  Whigs 
were  sure  which  side  the  Indian  warrior  would  champion, 
they  asked  his  old  schoolmaster  in  Connecticut  to  write 
him  upon  the  subject,  and  to  find  out  whether  or  no  this 
now  powerful  Indian  would  take  up  the  tomahawk 
against  them. 

When  Joseph  Brant  received  the  epistle  from  good 
old  Wheelock,  he  answered  it  with  characteristic  wit. 
"I  remember,"  said  he,  "many  happy  hours  that  I 
spent  under  your  roof,  dear  Doctor,  and  I  especially 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         263 

remember  the  family  prayers.  There  you  used  to  pray 
on  bended  knee  and  ask  that  we  all  might  be  able  to 
live  as  good  subjects;  to  fear  God  and  to  honor  the  King. 
How  is  it,  then,  that  you  now  no  longer  wish  to  honor 
the  very  man  for  whom  you  used  to  pray?"  To  this 
the  now  aged  schoolmaster  made  no  reply,  nor  could  he 
have  done  so. 

"When  I  joined  the  English  at  the  beginning  of  this 
war,"  said  Brant,  some  years  afterwards,  "it  was  purely 
on  account  of  my  forefathers'  engagements  with  the 
King.  I  always  looked  upon  these  covenants  between 
the  King  and  the  Indian  nations  as  a  sacred  thing; 
therefore,  I  was  not  to  be  frightened  by  the  threats  of 
rebels  at  the  time!"  Thus  the  English  gained  the 
allegiance,  not  only  of  this  able  warrior,  but  also  of  all  the 
fighting  men  whom  he  controlled.  "I  will  lead  three 
thousand  braves  to  battle  for  the  cause  of  England," 
cried  Brant  in  London,  where  he  was  now  sent  by  Sir 
William  Johnson,  "  and  with  our  assistance,  there  can  be 
but  one  end  of  the  war — England  will  conquer." 

No  wonder  he  was  popular  at  the  English  Capital. 
When  he  appeared  at  court  he  wore  a  gorgeous  Indian 
costume;  tall  plumes  adorned  his  headdress;  silver 
bands  were  around  his  sinewy  arms,  his  dress  was  of  the 
richest  texture,  and  copper  pendants  hung  from  his 
clothing.  In  his  belt  of  blue,  red  and  white  beads,  a 
long  glittering  tomahawk  was  fastened  upon  which 
was  engraved,  "J.  Thay-en-da-ne-gea."  He  was  the 
lion  of  the  London  season.  His  portrait  was  twice 
painted;  jewelled  ladies  sought  an  audience  with  him; 
while  the  famous  Boswell  wrote  much  about  this  eminent 


264         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

redskin  in  the  papers  of  the  period.  But  in  spite  of  all 
this  flattery,  he  seems  to  have  been  undismayed  by  what 
he  saw  and  to  have  had  the  good  sense  to  buy  a  gold 
ring,  upon  which  was  engraved  his  full  name,  so  that  he 
could  be  identified  if  slain  in  battle.  And  of  war  he 
was  soon  to  see  enough  to  satisfy  the  martial  spirit  of 
any  Indian  warrior. 

The  people  of  New  York  were  waiting  to  capture  this 
prominent  brave  when  he  returned  to  his  own  land, 
but  he  was  too  shrewd  for  them  and  escaped  the  clutches 
of  those  who  would  do  him  harm.  Landing  near  the 
city  of  New  York  in  a  small  boat,  he  carefully  hid  him 
self  by  day,  and  journeying  by  night,  soon  had  reached 
a  less  populated  country.  Finally  he  came  to  Canada, 
was  received  most  cordially  by  the  British  officers,  and 
soon  had  collected  a  large  band  of  Indians  which  he 
put  at  the  disposal  of  Sir  Guy  Carleton,  then  com 
mander  of  the  British  troops  on  Canadian  soil.  He 
was  ordered  to  join  forces  with  a  company  of  regulars, 
with  six  hundred  Iroquois,  and  to  dislodge  some  Ameri 
can  troops  from  a  point  of  land  about  forty  miles  above 
Montreal,  known  as  the  Cedars. 

The  Americans  were  unable  to  hold  their  own  against 
the  superior  numbers  of  their  enemies.  They  capitu 
lated,  and,  although  a  number  of  troops — under  General 
Arnold — came  .to  their  assistance,  these  were  defeated 
by  Brant  and  his  Iroquois  with  great  loss.  The  savages 
murdered  many  of  the  prisoners  before  they  could  be 
prevented,  although  Brant  endeavored  to  stop  them. 
He  did  succeed  in  saving  the  life  of  Captain  McKinstry, 
who  was  badly  wounded,  and  who  had  been  selected 


JOSEPH    BRANT,    OR    THAY-EN-DA-NEGEA 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH   BRANT         265 

by  the  Indians  to  be  roasted  alive.  By  making  up  a 
purse  among  the  officers  an  ox  was  purchased  for  the 
bloodthirsty  braves,  which  they  roasted  instead  of  the 
officer,  and,  as  the  latter  was  treated  with  great  kind 
ness  by  Brant,  he  became  a  firm  friend  of  the  young 
Mohawk  Chieftain.  In  after  years,  when  the  war  was 
over,  Brant  never  passed  down  the  Hudson  without 
visiting  the  gallant  captain  at  his  home,  a  visit  which 
the  American  greatly  appreciated  as  can  well  be  ima 
gined. 

Cherry  Valley  in  Otsego  County,  New  York,  is  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  fertile  sections  of  the  state,  so 
fertile  that  hundreds  of  white  settlers  had  here  taken 
up  plantations.  Their  consternation  was  great  when 
they  learned  in  1777  that  Brant  with  a  large  force  of 
Iroquois  and  Mohawks  had  determined  to  attack  them. 
From  Oquaga  on  the  Susquehanna  the  red  men  ap 
proached  the  settlements  one  bright  morning  in  May, 
and  from  the  thick  woods  glared  upon  the  largest  forti 
fication  of  the  settlement,  in  front  of  which  some  boys 
were  parading  with  swords  of  wood  and  guns  of  the 
same  material.  Luckily  the  Indian  Chief  thought  that 
these  were  real  soldiers,  and  fearing  to  attack  he  with 
drew. 

But  soon  two  young  men — Lieutenant  Wormwood 
and  Peter  Sitz — rode  into  the  wood,  where  his  Indians 
were  in  hiding.  The  former  had  just  galloped 
over  from  the  Mohawk  Valley  to  tell  the  people 
that  troops  would  soon  be  sent  to  them,  as  assistance, 
and  the  other  had  some  exaggerated  dispatches 
upon  his  person,  stating  that  the  defenses  of  the 


266          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

fort  were  twice  as  strong  as  they  really  were.  It  was 
fortunate  that  he  had  these  with  him,  for,  as  they 
were  captured  by  Brant  and  his  men,  these  bogus 
dispatches  made  the  Indians  desist  in  an  attack  upon  the 
stockade  in  Cherry  Valley.  Wormwood  was  killed  by 
a  volley  from  the  guns  of  the  savages  and  was  scalped, 
an  act  which  Brant  is  said  to  have  much  regretted,  as 
he  had  formerly  been  friendly  with  the  young  man. 
Sitz  was  allowed  to  go,  although  the  Mohawks  were  eager 
to  torture  him. 

The  Indians  continued  to  flock  to  the  standard  of 
Joseph  Brant,  and  the  people  of  the  frontier  were  in 
terror  of  their  lives.  Hastily  they  formed  a  militia 
and  placed  the  raw  recruits  under  the  command  of  a 
lean,  clean-limbed  frontiersman  called  Herkimer,  who 
was  an  old  neighbor  and  friend  of  Joseph  Brant.  This 
soldier  determined  if  possible  to  capture  the  wily  brave, 
and  so,  inviting  him  to  an  interview,  he  marched  out  with 
three  hundred  men  to  meet  him  at  Unadilla.  When 
he  had  arrived  there,  a  messenger  came  in  from  the  camp 
of  the  Indians. 

"Captain  Brant  wants  to  know  why  you  came  here?" 
said  the  Mohawk. 

Herkimer  looked  firmly  at  him.  "I  merely  came  to 
see  and  talk  with  my  brother,  Captain  Brant,"  he 
answered. 

The  Indian  gazed  suspiciously  around  at  the  hard- 
visaged  militiamen. 

"Do  all  these  men  want  to  talk  with  Captain  Brant 
also?"  he  asked.  " I  will  carry  your  big  talk  to  Captain 
Brant,"  he  continued,  "but  you  must  not  come  any 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         257 

farther."  So  saying,  he  made  off  towards  the  camp  of 
the  Indians. 

A  meeting  was  now  appointed  through  messengers  to 
take  place  about  midway  between  the  two  small  armies. 
Herkimer  hurried  to  the  place  of  council,  but  had  to 
wait  a  long  time  for  Brant  and  his  warriors,  who  showed 
by  their  actions  that  they  suspected  treachery.  Herki 
mer,  himself,  scarcely  disguised  his  intense  dislike  for 
the  Indian  warrior,  as  he  looked  into  the  keen  eyes  of 
the  famous  redskin. 

"May  I  inquire  the  reason  of  my  being  honored  by  a 
visit  from  such  an  eminent  man  as  yourself?"  asked 
Brant  politely. 

"I  came  upon  a  friendly  errand,"  said  Herkimer. 
"I  want  to  know  whether  you  intend  to  ally  yourself 
with  the  British  or  not?" 

Brant  looked  at  him  defiantly.  "The  Indians  are  in 
concert  with  the  King,  as  their  fathers  were,"  said  he. 
"We  have  still  got  the  wampum  belt  which  the  King 
gave  us,  and  we  cannot  break  our  word.  You  and  your 
followers  have  joined  the  Boston  people  against  your 
sovereign.  And,  although  the  Bostonians  are  resolute, 
the  King  will  humble  them.  Your  General  Schuyler 
has  been  too  smart  for  the  Indians  in  his  treaty  with 
them.  He  tricked  the  unsuspecting  braves.  The  In 
dians  have  made  war  before  upon  the  white  people  when 
they  were  all  united;  now  they  are  divided,  and  the 
Indians  are  not  frightened,  for  they  know  that  they 
can  beat  you." 

"I  want  you  to  give  up  the  Tories  in  your  party," 
said  Herkimer. 


268         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"I  refuse  to  do  so,"  Answered  Brant.  "If  all  you 
want  to  do  is  to  see  the  poor  Indians,  why,  pray,  do  you 
bring  all  these  white  soldiers  with  you?" 

So  the  conference  ended,  but  the  Indian  Chief  promised 
to  meet  Herkimer  again  next  day.  Meanwhile  the 
frontiersman  determined  to  massacre  the  Chief  and  his 
attendants  when  again  they  met.  Four  of  his  soldiers 
were  chosen  to  do  this,  but  when  the  time  came  they 
lost  heart,  and,  overawed  by  the  numbers  of  red  warriors, 
failed  to  take  the  life  of  Brant,  who  met  Herkimer  at 
the  appointed  time,  with  five  hundred  warriors  at  his 
heels.  The  white  man  only  had  a  dozen  militiamen  to 
guard  him. 

"I  have  five  hundred  of  my  best  men  with  me,  all 
armed  and  ready  for  battle,"  said  the  Mohawk.  "You, 
Herkimer,  are  in  my  power,  but,  as  we  have  been  friends 
and  neighbors,  I  will  not  take  advantage  over  you." 
As  he  spoke  he  signalled  with  his  hand,  and  with  a  wild, 
bloodcurdling  warwhoop,  his  warriors  swept  around  the 
spot  where  stood  the  frontier  leader. 

"Now,  Herkimer,"  said  Brant  imperiously,  "you 
and  your  men  may  go." 

The  militiamen  took  the  hint  and  turning  about  made 
off  into  the  forest  as  fast  as  their  legs  would  carry  them. 

Brant  and  his  men  withdrew  from  Cherry  Valley  and 
marched  to  meet  an  army  under  General  Burgoyne,  which, 
concentrating  at  Lake  Champlain,  was  beginning  an  ad 
vance  into  the  interior  of  the  State  of  New  York.  "  We 
cannot  be  beaten,"  said  the  British  leader.  "We  will 
split  the  Colonies  in  two  parts,  and  they  will  soon 
capitulate."  So  with  confidence  and  zeal  the  great 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH   BRANT         269 

force  of  English  regulars  and  hostile  Indians  crept  down 
upon  the  American  settlements.  The  farmers  armed 
for  the  defense  of  their  principles.  They  gathered  in 
bands  to  stem  the  hostile  invasion,  and,  if  possible,  to 
defeat  the  great  and  powerful  force  of  the  English. 

On  the  Mohawk  River  the  wooden  palisades  of  Fort 
Stanwix  offered  somewhat  of  an  obstacle  to  the  progress 
of  the  British  regulars.  Brave  Colonel  Gansevoort, 
who  commanded  it,  swore  that  he  would  perish  rather 
than  capitulate  to  the  enemies  of  the  American  Colonists, 
but,  as  the  fortifications  were  weak  and  the  garrison  was 
in  peril,  a  body  of  militia  from  the  Mohawk  Valley 
marched  to  its  relief.  Early  in  August  this  force  of 
armed  frontiersmen — under  rough  old  Herkimer — 
started  through  the  forest  to  succor  those  who  held  the 
place,  wrhile  one  of  Burgoyne's  generals  (St.  Ledger) 
sent  a  considerable  body  of  troops  and  Indians  to  meet 
the  New  York  farmers.  Brant  was  in  command  of  the 
detachment  of  savages,  and,  realizing  from  past  experi 
ence  the  militiamen  would  come  rather  heedlessly  through 
the  forest,  he  planned  an  ambuscade.  Near  a  rough 
bridge,  crossing  a  low,  swampy  piece  of  ground,  he 
placed  his  Indians  in  hiding.  In  a  wide  circle  they  hid 
around  the  brush  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  bridge. 

As  Herkimer's  rough  followers  came  slowly  through 
the  dense  woodland,  they  little  suspected  that  the  Mo 
hawks  and  Iroquois  were  crouching  there  before  them, 
eager  and  ready  to  precipitate  themselves  upon  their 
straggling  line.  The  Americans  were  even  singing,  so 
secure  did  they  feel,  and  some  stopped  at  the  stream 
to  drink.  The  main  body,  however,  pushed  into  the 


270         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

clearing  beyond,  and  all  had  crossed,  except  the  wagon 
train  and  the  rear  guard,  when,  with  a  blood-curdling 
yell,  the  followers  of  Brant  rushed  to  their  rear  so  as  to 
stop  their  retreat  across  the  bridge,  and  began  to  pour 
a  murderous  fire  into  the  startled  Americans. 

"Drop  to  the  ground,  men,"  shouted  old  Herkimer. 
"Fight  the  devils  from  behind  the  trees.  Make  every 
bullet  count,  and  never  give  in!" 

His  counsel  was  only  too  much  needed,  for  at  the  first 
Indian  volley  every  American  in  the  advance  guard  had 
been  killed.  The  rest,  crouching  low  upon  the  sod,  took 
deliberate  aim  at  the  yelping  Mohawks,  and  soon  held 
them  at  bay.  Again  and  again  the  frontiersmen  at 
tempted  to  get  through  the  hostile  line.  Again  and 
again  they  were  driven  back.  A  bullet  struck  grim 
Herkimer's  steed  and  knocked  him  to  the  ground. 
Another  hit  the  dauntless  frontiersman  in  the  leg  and 
splintered  the  bone.  But  in  spite  of  the  pain  in  his 
wound  he  crawled  to  a  tree,  propped  himself  against  it 
with  his  face  to  the  enemy,  and  coolly  taking  out  his 
tinder  box,  lighted  his  pipe.  "Pray  take  yourself  to 
the  rear  and  out  of  harm's  way,"  cried  one  of  his  aids 
when  he  saw  the  bullets  crashing  around  his  com 
mander.  "No,  I  will  not  move,"  said  old  Herkimer, 
with  calm  decision.  "An  American  general  always 
faces  the  enemy.  Place  two  of  our  men  behind  each 
tree,  for  I  note  that  when  one  man  is  alone  the  red  devils 
run  in  and  tomahawk  him,  after  he  has  discharged  his 
musket.  Tell  one  of  them  to  always  reserve  his  load 
until  after  the  first  one  has  fired.  That  will  keep  old 
neighbor  Brant  in  check." 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         271 

The  fight  had  now  lasted  about  an  hour,  and  the 
Americans  were  holding  their  own  against  the  British 
and  Indians,  whose  wild  yells  and  war-whoops  did  not 
inspire  them  with  much  terror.  But  suddenly  a  tre 
mendous  thunder  shower  burst  upon  the  struggling 
masses  of  humanity,  and  deep  roars  of  the  elements, 
fierce  flashes  of  lightning,  and  ominous  crashings  of 
branches  put  an  end  to  hostilities.  The  frightful 
raging  of  the  storm  drowned  the  yelping  and  groaning 
of  the  combatants.  A  deluging  flood  of  water  poured 
from  the  inky  clouds,  wetting  the  powder  of  both 
Indians  and  whites,  and  rendering  many  of  the  guns 
useless.  The  Indians  were  awed  by  the  frightful  noise 
of  the  elements,  and,  in  sullen  rage,  the  dark  warriors 
of  Joseph  Brant  withdrew  from  the  firing  line  to  a  safe 
distance.  The  Americans,  meanwhile,  took  a  more 
advantageous  position  and  waited  with  confidence  for 
the  renewal  of  the  fight.  Their  wagons  were  wheeled 
in  a  circle  and  they  crouched  by  them,  determined  that 
death  would  overtake  them  before  they  would  surrender. 

When  the  storm  subsided,  the  Mohawks  again  rushed 
into  the  fray,  assisted  by  some  soldiers  from  Johnson 
Hall,  called  Johnson's  Greens.  These  men  were  all 
neighbors  of  Herkimer's  Americans,  and  as  they  came 
on,  those  who  favored  the  cause  of  the  Colonies  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  attack  their  former  com 
panions  with  fixed  bayonets.  The  Greens  stood  their 
ground,  until,  with  clubbed  muskets,  the  Americans 
beat  them  to  earth,  while  some,  in  deadly  embrace, 
rolled  upon  the  sod  and  were  shot  to  death  by  the 
Indian  warriors.  The  fighting  was  furious.  Fierce 


272         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

shouts  rose  above  the  crack  of  the  muskets,  while 
above  the  sound  of  the  struggling  men  could  be  heard 
the  calm  voice  of  old  Herkimer,  saying: 

"Be  cool,  boys,  be  cool.  But  lick  'em  for  the  Great 
Jehovah  and  the  Continental  Congress." 

Thus  continued  the  fierce  battling  in  the  wildwood, 
when,  suddenly,  hoarse  cheers  arose  from  the  Americans, 
as  with  a  rattle  and  roar  two  hundred  men  from  the 
garrison  at  Fort  Stanwix  burst  through  the  forest  and 
precipitated  themselves  upon  the  British  and  Indians. 
A  wild  yell  went  up  as  the  New  Yorkers  drove  the 
Indians  back,  and  with  a  sudden  rush  broke  the  English 
formation.  In  disorganization  and  confusion,  the  allied 
forces  of  invasion  now  withdrew,  while,  with  loud  yelps 
of  hatred,  the  followers  of  Joseph  Brant  also  made  off 
into  the  gloom  of  the  deep  wood.  The  baggage  and 
provisions  of  the  English  were  soon  in  the  hands  of  the 
victorious  Americans,  while  several  of  their  battle  flags 
were  seized  by  the  hardy  frontiersmen  from  the  valley 
of  the  Mohawk.  Surprise,  temporary  defeat,  and  dis 
organization  had  been  turned  into  a  victory  for  the 
grim-visaged  followers  of  old  Herkimer.  The  battle  of 
the  Oriskanay  had  ended  in  repulse  for  the  invaders. 

Brant  was  now  the  most  detested  man  in  the  border. 
Those  who  had  before  been  friendly  to  him  prayed  for 
an  opportunity  to  dispatch  this  venomous  Indian. 
But  in  spite  of  his  evil  reputation,  he  always  denied 
that  he  had  ever  committed  any  act  of  cruelty  during 
this  savage  war,  and  none  has  been  proven  against  him, 
while  many  stories  of  his  mercy  are  well  authenticated. 
When  Indians  were  accused  of  brutality,  Brant  would 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         273 

reply  that  the  whites  sometimes  excelled  the  savages 
in  revengeful  barbarity,  He  defended  the  Indian 
mode  of  warfare,  saying  that  the  savages  had  neither 
the  artillery,  the  numbers,  nor  the  prisons  of  the  white 
men,  and  that,  as  their  forces  were  small,  they  had  to  use 
stratagem  in  order  to  win. 

In  the  summer  of  1778 — when  every  frontiersman 
was  in  danger  and  all  trembled  for  their  lives — a  boy 
named  William  McKoun  was  one  day  raking  hay  alone 
in  a  field.  Turning  suddenly  around,  he  saw  an  Indian 
near  by,  and  raising  his  hayrake  for  protection,  cried 
out: 

"Red  man,  what  do  you  want?" 

"Don't  be  afraid,  young  man,  I  sha'n't  hurt  you," 
said  the  Indian.  "What  is  your  name?" 

"William  McKoun,"  answered  the  boy. 

"Oh,  you  are  a  son  of  Captain  McKoun,  who  lives  in 
the  northeast  part  of  the  town,  I  suppose,"  continued 
the  savage.  "I  know  your  father  very  well.  He  is  a 
neighbor  of  Mr.  Foster.  Your  father  is  a  very  fine  fel 
low,  indeed.  I  know  several  more  of  your  neighbors, 
and  they  are  fine  men." 

"What  is  your  name?"  the  boy  ventured  to  ask. 

The  Indian  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  replied: 

"My  name  is  Brant." 

"What,  Captain  Brant?"  cried  the  boy  eagerly. 

"No,  I  am  a  cousin  of  his,"  answered  the  great  chief 
(for  it  was  Joseph  Brant),  as  he  turned  to  go  away. 
Thus,  it  can  be  seen  that  in  the  midst  of  war  he  was  not 
always  the  bloodthirsty  savage. 

Another   incident   well   exhibited   his   merciful   side, 


274         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

for  when  in  1778  the  allied  troops,  under  Brant  and  an 
Englishman  named  Butler,  attacked  the  settlements  in 
Cherry  Valley,  the  Mohawk  Chieftain  entered  a  house 
where  he  found  a  white  woman  baking  bread. 

"How  is  it  that  you  are  doing  this  kind  of  work  while 
your  neighbors  are  all  being  murdered  around  you?" 
asked  the  great  warrior. 

11  We  are  the  King  of  England's  people,"  exclaimed 
the  woman. 

"That  plea  won't  save  you  today,"  cried  Brant, 
"for  my  Indians  are  murdering  everyone." 

"There  is  one  Joseph  Brant  who  is  a  man  of  big 
heart,"  exclaimed  the  woman.  "If  he  is  with  the 
Indians  he  will  save  us." 

The  warrior  looked  pleased.  "I  am  Joseph  Brant," 
said  he.  "But  I  am  not  in  command,  and  I  don't  know 
that  I  can  save  you.  I  will  do  what  I  can." 

As  he  spoke,  a  band  of  Seneca  braves  approached 
the  house.  "Get  into  bed  and  pretend  that  you  are 
ill,"  shouted  Brant.  And  as  she  obeyed  the  Indians 
entered. 

"There  is  no  one  here  but  a  sick  woman  and  her  chil 
dren,"  cried  the  Chief.  "Leave  them  alone,  for  they  are 
on  the  King's  side." 

After  some  talking  the  Senecas  withdrew,  and  when 
they  were  out  of  sight  Brant  went  to  the  door  and 
uttered  a  long,  shrill  yell.  Immediately  a  dozen  Mo 
hawk  warriors  came  running  across  the  fields. 

"Here,"  cried  their  leader,  "take  some  of  our  paint 
and  put  your  mark  upon  this  woman  and  her  chil 
dren."  And  as  they  obeyed  he  said  to  her: 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         275 

"Madam,  you  are  now  safe,  as  all  the  Senecas  and 
Mohawks  will  understand  and  respect  this  sign.  Good 
bye  and  good  luck  to  you." 

The  allied  forces  of  Butler  and  Brant  captured  thirty 
or  forty  prisoners  in  Cherry  Valley,  but  they  could  not 
seize  the  fort,  which  was  well  defended  by  numerous 
frontiersmen.  So  marching  off  with  the  plunder  which 
they  had  collected,  they  soon  were  back  in  their  own 
territory.  The  women  and  children  whom  they  had 
captured  were  exchanged  next  year  for  British  prisoners 
among  the  Americans,  but  in  1778  Brant  and  Sir  William 
Johnson  again  advanced  through  the  Schoharie  and 
Mohawk  Valleys,  on  a  campaign  of  destruction,  plunder, 
and  revenge.  Burgoyne's  army  had  been  defeated. 
Stout,  courageous  old  Herkimer  had  died  of  his  wounds 
after  the  bloody  battle  of  the  Oriskanay,  but  the  Eng 
lish  cause  was  not  dead  by  any  means,  and  the  Indians 
were  still  upon  the  warpath. 

The  English,  Senecas  and  Mohawks  numbered  six 
teen  hundred  men,  and,  as  they  marched  into  Wyoming 
Valley,  the  people  took  refuge  in  a  structure  known  as 
"  Forty  Fort,"  while  the  old  men,  boys,  and  a  few  veteran 
soldiers  who  were  home  on  furlough  marched  out  to 
meet  the  invaders.  The  Americans  were  well  armed, 
were  led  by  an  excellent  officer,  and  were  fighting  for 
the  protection  of  their  homes.  Before  the  opening  of 
the  battle,  strong  spirits  were  distributed  among  the 
defenders,  and  as  a  number  of  the  frontiersmen  indulged 
too  freely  in  whiskey  and  brandy,  it  helped  to  defeat  the 
patriot  force.  The  battle  opened  with  irregular  firing, 
but  soon  steady  volleys  were  being  poured  into  the 


276         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

invaders  by  the  Americans.  The  British  gave  way  as 
the  Yankee  troops  advanced,  but  in  the  heat  of  the 
fray  several  orders  were  misunderstood,  and  the  line 
became  confused.  At  this  crisis  Johnson  ordered  a 
charge  of  his  Indians.  With  a  wild,  blood-curdling 
screech,  they  precipitated  themselves  upon  the  defenders 
of  Wyoming,  and  soon,  in  hopeless  rout,  the  Americans 
were  broken  into  shreds.  They  were  struck  down  right 
and  left  and  tomahawked  as  they  fell.  The  fort  itself  was 
next  in  the  hands  of  the  Tories  and  Indians,  who,  on  a 
promise  that  no  one  would  be  harmed  if  they  surrendered, 
gained  an  entrance  to  their  stout  defense.  The  women 
and  children  inside  were  tomahawked  with  ruthless 
slaughter,  and  with  wild  yells  of  delight  the  followers  of 
Johnson  and  Brant  danced  around  the  hapless  victims 
of  war. 

Unwilling  to  trust  themselves  to  the  plighted  word  of 
a  Tory  or  Indian,  some  of  the  patriots  plunged  into  the 
forest  and  made  their  way  to  the  American  settlements 
on  the  Upper  Delaware.  Many  died  of  starvation  on 
the  way.  The  woods  through  which  they  went  have 
been  thus  called  "The  Shades  of  Death,"  for,  as  they 
plunged  onward  to  Stroudsburg  and  other  havens  of 
safety,  in  their  ears  rang  the  loud  screams  of  their  wives 
and  children,  while  on  their  brains  were  engraved  the 
awful  sight  of  burning  houses,  murdered  patriots  and 
wild  savages  dancing  in  their  warpaint.  The  massacre 
of  Wyoming  was  one  of  the  most  fiendish  in  the  annals 
of  border  fighting. 

Brant  was  now  known  as  the  Monster.     Historians 
have  stated  that  he  was  not  engaged  in  this  campaign, 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         277 

and  that  the  Indians  were  Senecas  and  not  Mohawks. 
At  any  rate,  he  was  near  the  scene  of  slaughter,  for,  four 
months  later,  he  was  in  a  foray  into  Cherry  Valley. 
In  a  massacre  during  this  raid  a  man  named  Major 
Wood  was  about  to  be  killed,  when,  either  by  accident 
or  design,  he  made  a  Masonic  signal,  although  he  did  not 
belong  to  this  order.  When  Brant  saw  it,  he  exclaimed : 

" Brother!  you  shall  not  die.  I  am  a  Mason  and  will 
protect  you."  So  he  stayed  the  tomahawk  and  set  the 
fellow  free.  It  is  said  that  the  captive  felt  under  obli 
gations  to  join  the  order  immediately  after  his  release 
from  the  clutches  of  the  hostile  Indians. 

The  summer  of  1779  had  now  come.  The  Colonists 
had  regained  their  courage  and  wrere  determined  to  put 
an  end  to  these  Indian  invasions.  So,  placing  General 
Sullivan  in  command  of  their  outposts,  they  allowed 
him  to  strike  the  Indians  in  his  own  manner.  This 
able  soldier,  dividing  his  army  into  three  divisions,  ad 
vanced  into  the  land  of  the  Senecas  and  Mohawks 
His  left  moved  from  Pittsburg  under  Colonel  Broad- 
head;  his  right  from  the  Mohawk  River  under  General 
James  Clinton,  while  he,  himself,  led  the  centre  from 
Wyoming.  Sullivan  met  the  English  and  Indians 
under  Brant,  where  now  stands  the  city  of  Elmira, 
New  York.  The  Americans  outnumbered  the  enemy 
and  attacked  with  fury.  The  Indians  fought  courage 
ously,  but  they  could  not  stem  the  rush  of  the  Colonials, 
\vho  wished  to  revenge  the  massacre  of  WTyoming. 
The  Mohawks,  Iroquois  and  Senecas  wrere  killed  by  the 
hundreds.  So  many  fell  that  the  sides  of  the  rocks 
next  to  the  river  appeared  as  if  blood  had  been  poured 


278         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

over  them  by  pailfuls.  And  soon  seeing  that  all  was 
lost,  the  Indian  warriors  fled  from  their  fertile  country, 
leaving  their  territory  with  its  populous  and  well-laid- 
out  villages,  its  vast  fields  of  waving  grain,  and  its 
magnificent  orchards,  to  be  destroyed  by  the  patriots. 

More  than  forty  villages  were  laid  in  ruins.  The 
famous  apple  orchards  were  cut  down,  and  these  were 
the  product  of  the  toil  and  care  of  generations  of  Iro- 
quois.  "Alas,"  said  one  old  Mohawk  brave.  "A 
wigwam  can  be  built  in  two  or  three  days,  but  a  tree 
takes  many  years  to  grow  again."  So  great,  indeed, 
was  the  destruction  that  a  peace  party  arose  among  the 
Indians,  led  by  the  famous  Red  Jacket.  With  great 
eloquence  he  spoke  of  the  folly  of  war,  which  they  had 
fought  for  the  English,  and  for  which  they  had  been 
driven  from  their  beautiful  valley.  "What  have  the 
English  ever  done  for  us,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  we 
should  become  homeless  and  helpless  wanderers  for  their 
sakes?"  So  strong,  indeed,  was  this  appeal  that 
secretly  it  was  determined  to  send  a  runner  to  the 
American  army  in  order  to  gain  peace  at  any  terms. 

When  Brant  heard  of  this,  he  summoned  two  Mo 
hawk  warriors  to  his  camp.  "This  runner  must  never 
reach  the  camp  of  the  Americans,"  he  cried.  "See  that 
he  dies  on  the  way ! "  So  the  expectant  Senecas  and  other 
mal-contents  waited  in  vain  for  the  answering  message 
from  Sullivan  and  his  men.  A  reply  to  their  proposals 
never  came,  for  the  bearer  of  their  words  of  resignation 
was  lying  behind  some  great  rock  in  the  forest  with  a 
tomahawk  in  his  brain. 

In  October,  1780,  the  Mohawks  had  so  greatly  re- 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         279 

gained  their  courage  that  with  the  assistance  of  Tory 
troops,  under  Butler,  they  again  descended  upon  the 
settlements  of  the  Mohawk  Valley.  Houses  and  barns 
were  burned;  horses  and  cattle  were  either  killed  or 
driven  off,  and  those  who  did  not  fly  to  the  protection 
of  the  stockade  were  tomahawked.  As  the  Americans 
pushed  through  the  woods  one  day,  nine  stout  English 
soldiers  were  running  through  the  brush.  It  was  fairly 
dark,  and  when  they  suddenly  heard  a  stern  voice  cry, 
"Lay  down  your  arms,"  they  were  suddenly  aware  that 
they  had  run  into  the  enemy.  Fearing  that  Sullivan 
himself  was  there,  they  all  threw  down  their  arms  and 
capitulated.  They  were  securely  bound  and  led  off 
to  a  little  blockhouse,  where,  as  day  dawned  they  found, 
to  their  chagrin,  that  their  captors  were  seven  militiamen 
of  the  American  army. 

But  the  invaders  were  not  to  have  everything  their 
own  way,  for  soon  the  Americans,  under  Colonels  Rowley 
and  Willet,  met  them  near  Johnson  Hall.  The  fighting 
was  furious;  so  furious  on  the  part  of  the  patriots 
that  the  enemy  retreated  to  West  Canada  Creek,  where 
they  encamped.  It  was  the  ground  which  old  Hendrick 
had  sold  for  an  embroidered  coat,  but  next  day  it  ran 
red  with  the  blood  of  the  old  chief's  descendants.  But 
ler  was  shot  and  fell  mortally  wounded  by  the  bullet  of 
an  Oneida  Indian,  who  bounded  towards  him  with  his 
tomahawk  raised  aloft.  "Save  me,"  cried  the  craven 
Butler,  who,  himself,  had  murdered  hundreds  of  Ameri 
cans.  "Give  me  quarter." 

"Hah!"  cried  the  Oneida  brave.  "I  will  give  you 
Cherry  Valley  quarter,"  and  so  saying  he  buried  his 


280         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

hatchet  in  the  brain  of  the  enemy,  leaving  his  body 
as  a  prey  to  the  wild  denizens  of  the  forest,  who  soon 
consumed  it. 

The  place  of  this  fierce  fighting  is  to  this  day  called 
Butler's  Ford,  and  here  the  Tories  and  Indians  made 
their  last  stand  against  the  Colonists.  Soon  a  treaty 
of  peace  had  been  signed  between  America  and  England, 
and  this  fierce  border  warfare  was  to  come  to  an  end. 

Brant  was  not  forgotten  by  the  English  Monarch,  and 
he  was  given  a  fine  tract  of  land  on  the  western  side  of 
Lake  Ontario,  where  he  made  his  home,  had  an  excellent 
house,  and  lived  in  the  manner  of  an  Englishman. 
Invited  again  to  London,  he  there  was  asked  to  a 
masquerade,  and,  as  he  needed  no  mask,  went  in  his 
native  costume,  with  his  tomahawk  in  his  belt  and  his 
face  painted  vermilion.  There  were  some  Turks 
present  at  the  ball,  and  one  seemed  to  be  very  much 
interested  in  Brant's  face.  He  examined  it  very 
closely,  and  at  last  raised  his  hand  and  pulled  the 
Chief's  long  Roman  nose,  supposing  it  to  be  a  mask. 
Immediately  Brant  gave  a  loud,  piercing  warwhoop, 
swung  his  glistening  tomahawk  around  the  head  of  the 
startled  Mohammedan,  and  almost  brought  it  down 
upon  his  turbanned  skull.  Ladies  shrieked  and  fainted. 
Waiters  fell  on  each  other  in  a  wild  endeavor  to  get 
away.  Champagne  glasses  and  fragile  plates  crashed 
upon  the  floor.  All  was  confusion  and  uproar  until, 
smiling  broadly,  the  well-known  Mohawk  brave  placed 
his  weapon  again  in  his  belt,  exclaiming:  "Ugh!  I 
would  not  hurt  you  for  anything.  I  only  wanted  to 
scare  you  as  I  did  the  Americans." 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         281 

Under  half  pay  as  an  English  officer,  the  well-known 
Mohawk  Chieftain  held  a  commission  of  colonel  from  the 
King  of  England,  although  he  was  usually  called  Cap 
tain.  He  encouraged  missionaries  to  come  among  his 
people,  lived  gorgeously  with  a  retinue  of  thirty  negro 
servants,  and  took  great  interest  in  the  progress  of  his 
tribe.  Yet  his  life  was  not  an  entirely  easy  one,  as 
numerous  enemies  plotted  against  his  life.  One  Dutch 
man,  whose  entire  family  had  been  killed  by  Brant's 
warriors  in  the  Mohawk  Valley,  swore  revenge  against 
him  and  shadowed  him  by  day  and  night,  awaiting  an 
opportunity  to  kill  him.  And  he  nearly  did  so  in  New 
York,  where  the  Mohawk  Chief  had  taken  a  room  at  a 
hotel  which  fronted  on  Broadway.  Looking  out  of  his 
window,  he  saw  this  infuriated  settler  aiming  a  gun  at 
him  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  but,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  a  Colonial  officer  saw  the  act,  and  running 
to  the  angry  Dutchman,  took  his  gun  away  from  him 
before  he  could  fire  it. 

This  was  not  the  only  attempt  against  the  life  of 
the  noted  Indian  brave.  He  was  shot  at  one  day  when 
walking  through  the  streets,  by  an  unseen  enemy  in 
an  old  outhouse.  Startled  by  this,  he  planned  to  return 
to  Canada  through  the  Mohawk  Valley,  but  was  told 
that  he  would  be  assassinated  if  he  did  so.  He,  there 
fore,  changed  his  course  and  went  home  by  vessel  along 
the  coast.  In  New  York  State  he  was  detested  and 
hated.  Men  remembered  the  awful  butcheries  of  his 
Mohawks  and  the  carnage  of  the  battles  in  this  state, 
and  had  Brant  ever  ventured  among  them,  he  would 
never  have  gotten  away  alive.  Sorrowed  by  events  and 


282         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

seeing  the  gradual  disintegration  of  his  tribe,  the  cele 
brated  warrior  spent  his  declining  years  in  sadness  and 
regret.  "Colonel  Brant  is  a  man  of  education/'  wrote 
Aaron  Burr.  "He  speaks  English  perfectly  and  has  seen 
much  of  England  and  America.  Receive  him  with 
respect  and  hospitality.  He  is  not  one  of  those  Indians 
who  drink,  but  is  quite  a  gentleman;  one,  in  fact,  who 
understands  and  practices  what  belongs  to  propriety 
and  good  breeding." 

A  remarkable  piece  of  work  by  this  renowned  warrior 
was  the  translation  of  the  Gospel  of  John  and  the  Book 
of  Common  Prayer  into  the  Mohawk  language,  copies 
of  which  are  in  the  Harvard  University.  His  wife,  a 
half-breed,  refused  to  conform  to  civilized  life,  and 
finally  removed  to  a  wigwam,  taking  some  of  her  chil 
dren  with  her  and  leaving  others  at  her  former  home. 
The  great  chief,  himself,  died  in  1807,  at  the  age  of 
sixty-four  years,  saying  to  a  white  friend  with  his  last 
breath:  "Have  pity  on  the  poor  Indian;  if  you  have 
any  influence  with  the  great  Englishmen,  endeavor  to 
do  all  the  good  that  you  can  for  the  poor  Mohawks." 

Buried  beside  the  church  which  he  had  built  at  Grand 
River,  the  first  church  in  Upper  Canada,  there  now 
stands  a  monument  over  his  grave,  said  to  have  cost 
thirty  thousand  dollars.  Upon  it  is  the  following 
inscription: 

"This  tomb  is  erected  to  the  memory  of  Thay-en-da- 
ne-gea,  or  Captain  Joseph  Brant,  principal  chief  and 
warrior  of  the  Six  Nation  Indians,  by  his  fellow  subjects, 
and  admirers  of  his  fidelity  and  attachment  to  the 
British  Crown.77 


CAPTAIN  JOSEPH  BRANT         283 

The  civilization  of  the  white  man  now  sweeps  by  the 
last  resting  place  of  the  red  warrior  of  the  Mohawk 
Valley.  His  tribe  has  vanished;  his  reputation  belongs 
to  the  ages. 


LITTLE  TURTLE,  OR  MICHIKINIQUA : 

THE  MIAMI  CONQUEROR  OF  HAR- 

MAR  AND  ST.  CLAIR 

VERY  few  Indian  warriors  have  ever  defeated  the 
forces  of  whites  sent  against  them  more  than 
once.  Nor  have  many  of  them  exhibited  the 
same  talent  for  warfare  that  the  English  have  shown. 
The  red  man  has  never  cared  for  discipline  or  tactics, 
and  has  usually  fought  his  battles  in  a  haphazard 
manner.  But  there  has  been  one  chieftain  who  has  the 
distinction  of  having  defeated  two  separate  armies 
of  Colonists,  with  numbers  about  equal  to  his  own 
braves.  Judged  from  these  successes  in  battle,  and 
from  his  sagacity  in  the  council  chamber,  Little  Turtle, 
a  Miami  warrior,  deserves  a  position  of  particular 
prominence  among  the  American  red  men  of  distinction. 
When  the  American  Revolution  came  to  an  end,  the 
Mississippi  River  was  the  western  boundary  of  the 
United  States.  Long  after  the  conclusion  of  peace,  the 
British  retained  possession  of  several  posts  within  the 
limits  of  the  property  ceded  to  the  Colonists  in  the 
northern  portion  of  the  State  of  New  York,  and  in  Ohio 
and  Illinois.  These  log  fortresses  became  rallying 
points  for  the  Indians  who  disliked  the  Americans,  and 
who,  as  the  tide  of  emigration  swept  westward,  de 
termined  to  check  it.  Although  the  British  no  longer 

284 


LITTLE   TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    285 

fought  against  the  Colonists,  they  sometimes  supplied  the 
hungry  savages  with  rations,  and  sustained  by  these  the 
Indians  were  aggressive,  insolent,  and  sullen.  The  newly 
formed  Government  of  the  United  States  made  strenu 
ous  attempts  to  pacify  the  wild  tribes,  and,  for  the  most 
part,  was  successful.  But  the  Miami  and  Wabash 
braves,  under  the  leadership  of  Little  Turtle,  Blue 
Jacket  and  Buckongahelas,  formed  a  strong  confedera 
tion  of  Wyandots,  Pottawattamies,  Chippewas,  Ottawas, 
Shawnees,  Delawares  and  Miamis,  who  resolved  to  stop 
all  white  men  from  coming  into  their  territory.  Thirty 
years  before,  these  same  tribes  had  united  under  the 
leadership  of  Pontiac,  and,  although  having  a  temporary 
success  against  the  whites,  had  finally  been  defeated, 
as  we  have  seen. 

Exposed  cabins  and  small  settlements  of  the  whites 
were  continually  burned  by  the  red  men,  and  the  ad 
venturous  pioneers  were  slain  whenever  there  was  no 
assistance  near  by.  Flatboats  upon  the  Ohio  River 
were  never  safe  from  Indian  attacks,  and  had  to  run 
by  hidden  redskins  on  the  banks.  Frequently  they 
were  sunk  by  the  enemy,  although  they  had  bullet 
proof  sides.  .  Attempts  to  conciliate  the  savages  were 
met  with  insults,  and,  so  in  September,  1791,  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States  directed  an  army  to  march 
into  the  country  of  the  Indians  and  defeat  them. 

In  command  of  the  American  troops  was  General 
Harmar,  an  able  leader  and  an  aggressive  campaigner. 
At  Fort  Washington,  where  Cincinnati  now  stands,  he 
gathered  a  force  of  three  hundred  and  twenty  regulars 
and  about  twelve  hundred  militiamen,  mostly  untrained 


286         FAMOUS  INDIAN   CHIEFS 

woodsmen  with  little  experience  in  border  warfare. 
Little  Turtle  was  the  most  active  leader  among  those 
who  opposed  the  invasion  of  the  Ohio  territory.  He 
won  his  position  of  chief  at  an  early  age  by  his  skill  and 
bravery,  for  he  possessed  both  in  a  marked  degree. 
His  intelligence  was  very  similar  to  that  of  his  white 
adversaries.  His  knowledge  of  the  proper  way  to  fight 
in  the  tangled  underbrush  of  the  Ohio  woodland  was 
supreme.  His  portrait  exhibits  a  face  in  which  quick 
ness  and  keenness  of  intellect  are  strongly  marked. 
His  piercing  black  eyes  look  defiantly  at  the  spectator 
and  burn  with  the  fire  of  ambition  and  resolution. 
He  possessed  every  qualification  for  a  leader  of  the  wild 
denizens  of  the  Ohio  country,  and  indulging  in  the 
gloomy  apprehension  that  the  whites  would  overtop 
and  finally  uproot  his  race,  he  was  strong  in  his 
denunciation  of  the  Americans,  and  in  his  desire  to 
annihilate  them. 

On  September  13,  1791,  the  troops  under  General 
Harmar  pushed  into  the  Indian  country,  and  soon 
reached  the  villages  of  the  Miamis.  These  were  de 
serted,  so  they  were  burned,  the  cornfields  were  cut 
down,  and  the  army  camped  upon  the  ground.  On  the 
next  day  an  Indian  trail  was  discovered,  so  Harmar 
ordered  one  hundred  and  fifty  militiamen  and  thirty 
regulars,  with  their  officers,  to  push  on  ahead  and  defeat 
the  hostiles. 

Captain  Armstrong,  in  charge  of  this  expedition,  was 
a  man  of  experience  in  border  warfare,  but  he  allowed 
his  entire  command  to  walk  into  an  ambush.  The 
troops  were  hot  upon  the  Indian  trail,  when  a  sudden 


LITTLE   TURTLE,   OR    MICHIKINIQUA. 


LITTLE   TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    287 

wail  from  the  forest  was  followed  by  the  loud  report  of 
a  rifle  on  the  right  of  the  skirmish  line.  Immediately 
a  chorus  of  horrible  yells  arose  from  every  quarter,  and 
before  the  Americans  fully  realized  it  they  were  sur 
rounded  by  a  ring  of  spitting  rifles.  Men  fell  over  each 
other  in  confusion,  and  terrified  by  the  suddenness  of 
the  onslaught  the  militia  broke  ranks  and  fled.  Arm 
strong,  himself,  was  knocked  into  a  mire,  and  sinking 
up  to  his  neck  in  the  bog  was  unable  to  take  part  in  the 
fighting.  He  could  only  see  the  terrible  slaughter 
among  the  regulars,  all  of  whom  were  either  killed  or 
disabled.  And  later  on  he  saw  the  Indians  holding  a 
savage  war  dance  among  the  bodies  of  the  slain. 

Dragging  himself  out  of  the  swamp  at  dark,  the  mud- 
bespattered  leader  crept  back  to  Harmar's  camp, 
while  the  doleful  wails  of  the  savages  sounded  loud  in 
the  inky  blackness.  And  when  he  arrived  he  found 
that  the  American  General  had  enough  of  Turtle's 
tactics  to  suit  him,  apparently  for  all  time.  At  any 
rate  he  broke  camp  and  retreated  towards  the  settle 
ments,  until  he  arrived  near  the  ruined  villages  of  the 
Miamis.  Here  he  ordered  a  halt  and  sent  Colonel 
Hardin  back  towards  the  Indians  with  only  sixty 
regulars  and  three  hundred  militiamen.  These  last 
were  pretty  poor  specimens  of  soldiers,  as  they  had, 
for  the  most  part,  been  recruited  in  the  Eastern  states 
from  men  of  no  experience  whatever  in  woodland 
fighting.  They  were  undisciplined,  untrained,  and 
unaccustomed  to  the  frontier.  Many  had  gone  out  to 
fight  in  order  to  escape  from  legal  difficulties  at  home. 
Their  ability  to  cope  with  the  watchful  enemy  was 


288          FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

about  equal  to  that  of  General  Braddock's  troops  at 
Fort  Duquesne,  and  they  met  with  about  the  same  fate. 

Hardin  had  no  sooner  arrived  at  the  place  he  had 
been  directed  to  go  to,  when  a  small  body  of  Miami 
Indians  advanced  to  meet  his  troops.  These,  by 
yelling  and  firing,  soon  attracted  the  volleys  of  his  own 
men.  As  the  militiamen  advanced,  the  redskins  broke 
into  several  bands,  and,  appearing  to  be  panic-stricken, 
fled  down  a  long  gulley.  In  a  twinkling  the  militia 
started  in  pursuit,  and  were  hurrying  after  the  yelping 
braves,  when  suddenly  a  vast  number  of  warriors  beset 
the  sixty  regulars  on  all  sides.  Little  Turtle  directed 
the  fighting,  and,  realizing  that  his  greater  number 
could  soon  annihilate  the  entire  command,  ordered  a 
rush  upon  the  soldiers  of  the  new  Republic,  who  had  now 
formed  a  hollow  square  back  to  back,  with  bayonets  at 
the  ends  of  their  long  muskets.  But  the  Indians  fought 
like  demons;  rushed  headlong  against  the  glittering 
steel;  and  throwing  their  tomahawks  at  the  soldiers, 
struck  down  those  in  front,  while  the  others  were  soon 
overpowered  by  the  vastly  superior  forces  of  the  enemy. 
The  militia,  meanwhile,  came  straggling  back  from 
their  pursuit  of  the  decoy  Indians,  and  for  a  short 
while  made  a  fierce  attack  upon  the  savages.  But  now 
realizing  that  the  regulars  were  all  killed,  and  being  un 
accustomed  to  frontier  fighting,  they  lost  heart  com 
pletely  and  retreated.  Ten  regulars  got  away  with 
the  mass  of  fugitives,  and  the  dead  were  left  as  a  prey  to 
the  wolves  and  other  animals  of  the  wild  wood. 

Elated  by  their  success,  the  Indians,  under  Little 
Turtle  and  the  other  leaders,  now  continued  their  depre- 


LITTLE  TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    289 

dations  upon  the  frontier  with  greater  audacity  than 
ever.  Harmar  retreated  to  Fort  Washington,  was 
courtmartialed,  and  was  honorably  acquitted,  but  im 
mediately  resigned  his  commission.  His  personal  con 
duct  in  the  battles  had  been  brave,  and  he  claimed  a 
victory,  because  the  warriors  of  Little  Turtle  had  not 
followed  him  up  after  the  fight.  Certainly  he  had 
made  the  campaign  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  for 
never  had  he  met  the  Indians  with  his  entire  force 
intact.  By  splitting  his  command  he  had  weakened 
it  badly,  and  thus  the  savages  had  been  able  to  over 
power  the  separate  detachments  of  his  army.  To  the 
sagacity  of  Little  Turtle  can  be  laid  the  Indian  victory, 
for  his  was  the  mind  that  had  planned  the  ambuscade, 
and  he  was  the  one  who  had  given  personal  direction 
to  the  annihilation  of  the  regulars. 

George  Washington,  who  was  then  President  of  the 
Republic,  was  mortified  by  this  series  of  defeats  to  his 
army,  and  the  situation  was  now  so  grave  that  Congress 
ordered  the  organization  of  a  new  force  to  punish  the 
savages.  The  Governor  of  the  Northwest  Territory, 
General  Arthur  St.  Clair,  was  put  in  command  of  fully 
two  thousand  men  and  was  directed  to  wipe  out  the 
defeat  of  Harmar,  by  administering  a  crushing  blow 
to  the  followers  of  Little  Turtle.  Before  he  set  out  upon 
his  journey  into  the  wilderness,  President  Washington 
called  him  to  Philadelphia  and  warned  him  to  guard 
against  surprise  by  the  Indians.  "You  have,"  said  he, 
"your  instructions  from  the  Secretary  of  War.  The 
Indians  have  a  leader  of  great  bravery  in  Little  Turtle, 
and  have  proven  that  they  can  fight  with  great  strength. 


290         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

You  know  that  they  lay  many  ambuscades.  Beware 
of  a  surprise!  I  repeat  it.  Beware  of  a  surprise!" 
With  these  words  of  counsel  ringing  in  his  ears,  St. 
Clair  left  for  Fort  Washington,  arriving  there  in  May, 
1791. 

The  leader  of  the  American  forces  was  a  man  of 
considerable  age,  and  was  afflicted  with  gout  and  rheu 
matism.  In  the  war  of  the  Revolution  he  had  ex 
hibited  no  particular  talent,  but  he  possessed  undoubted 
courage.  He  had  soon  collected  two  small  regiments 
of  regular  infantrymen  and  some  six  months'  levies  of 
militia,  whose  pay  was  two  dollars  and  ten  cents  a 
month  for  privates,  and  thirty  dollars  for  captains. 
The  militiamen  were  utterly  untrained  in  border  war 
fare,  and  their  officers  had  had  little  experience,  but  the 
regular  troops  were  well  used  to  Indian  campaigns. 
There  were  two  small  batteries  of  light  guns  and  a  few 
cavalrymen  to  swell  the  fighting  force,  which  amounted 
in  all  to  about  two  thousand  warriors. 

The  levies  of  raw  troops  were  gathered  together  at 
Fort  Hamilton,  twenty-five  miles  north  from  Fort 
Washington,  and  from  this  place  an  advance  was  begun 
into  the  Indian  country  on  October  4th.  The  little 
army  stumbled  slowly  through  the  deep  woods  and  across 
the  open  places,  cutting  out  its  own  road  and  making 
about  five  or  six  miles  a  day.  As  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
forest  were  plentiful,  frequently  both  deer  and  bear  were 
slaughtered,  and  venison  helped  to  sustain  the  strength 
of  the  men.  Halting  to  build  another  fort,  christened 
in  honor  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  the  army  again  pressed 
into  the  country  of  the  hostiles,  while  the  scouts  oc- 


LITTLE  TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    291 

casionally  interchanged  shots  with  parties  of  skulking 
braves.  Now  and  again  a  militiaman  would  disappear, 
showing  that  the  savages  were  closely  watching  the 
movements  of  the  column,  while  numerous  desertions 
cut  the  force  down  from  its  original  numbers  to  four 
teen  hundred  men.  Snow  was  on  the  ground,  the 
wintry  woods  surrounded  the  Americans  with  a  bleak 
and  awful  silence,  the  sickness  of  St.  Clair  made  it  im 
possible  for  him  to  command  in  person,  and  had  it  not 
been  for  the  efforts  of  the  Adjutant  General,  Colonel 
Winthrop  Sargent,  an  old  Revolutionary  officer,  the 
expedition  would  have  failed  ingloriously,  even  before 
the  Indians  had  been  reached. 

But  now  the  army  of  invasion  neared  the  Miami 
settlements,  where  the  redskins  were  making  busy 
preparation  to  give  the  Americans  a  warm  reception. 
They  had  met  in  a  grand  war  council,  at  which  the  plan 
of  attack  had  been  decided  upon,  and  various  tribes 
had  been  given  positions  in  the.  line.  Little  Turtle  was 
to  be  Commander-in-Chief,  so  he  made  a  rousing  speech, 
telling  the  Indians  to  fight  to  the  last  ditch,  to  attack 
the  militia  in  preference  to  the  regular  troops,  and  to 
rush  the  enemy  in  such  masses  that  they  would  be  over 
whelmed.  An  ambuscade  was  decided  upon  where 
the  ground  was  most  favorable  to  the  savages,  and  here 
Little  Turtle  pointed  out  the  proper  positions  which  he 
wished  the  various  warlike  bands  to  assume.  The  in 
telligent  Miami  chief  was  not  to  take  any  position  in 
the  line  of  battle,  but  was  to  direct  the  operations  from 
the  rear,  like  a  white  general,  and  thus  the  Indians  dis 
played  more  foresight  than  usual;  foresight  which  was 


292         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

to  tell  with  tremendous  effect  upon  the  illy  disciplined 
frontier  detachments  under  St.  Clair. 

On  November  3rd,  the  army  of  invasion  camped  upon 
the  eastern  fork  of  the  Wabash  River,  upon  a  narrow 
hillock,  where  the  troops  were  somewhat  crowded 
together,  with  the  artillery  and  cavalrymen  in  the 
centre.  Around  them  was  boggy,  swampy  ground, 
while  all  about  the  wintry  woods  in  frozen  silence  gave 
no  warning  of  the  savage  foe,  lurking  beneath  the  under 
brush  in  vindictive  anger. 

The  militiamen  were  marched  well  to  the  front, 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  the  rest  of  the  troops, 
and  there  went  into  camp,  while  several  bands  of  savages 
seen  in  the  gloomy  woods  made  them  fully  aware  that 
they  were  in  touch  with  the  foe. 

At  sunrise,  next  morning,  the  soldiers  were  up  and 
doing,  and,  as  they  were  dismissed  from  parade,  St. 
Clair  sent  orders  that  some  entrenchments  should  be 
thrown  up  before  they  marched  against  the  Miami 
towns,  which  he  knew  to  be  not  far  distant.  Just  as 
these  orders  reached  the  commander  of  this  advance 
guard,  a  blood-curdling  yell  sounded  from  the  woodland 
in  front.  Another  and  another  followed,  and  then  a 
volley  of  musketry  flashed  from  the  dense  underbrush. 
A  second  volley  followed  the  first,  the  militiamen  could 
see  no  foe,  while  many  of  their  comrades  were  soon 
writhing  upon  the  ground  in  mortal  agony.  Some 
endeavored  to  fight,  but  the  majority,  terrified  by  the 
sudden  and  unexpected  onslaught,  turned  arid  rushed 
in  a  wild  panic  back  to  the  camp  of  the  regulars.  In 
vain  the  officers  tried  to  stop  the  retreat;  the  men 


LITTLE   TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    293 

dashed  past  them  like  cowards,  and  precipitating  them 
selves  among  the  regular  troops,  spread  dismay  and 
confusion  among  them.  The  veterans  sprang  to  arms, 
while  the  drums  rolled  the  call  to  quarters.  As  the 
painted  braves  came  bounding  through  the  underbrush, 
they  were  met  with  a  crashing  volley  from  the  old  cam 
paigners,  which  halted  their  mad  career.  They  stopped, 
crouched  down  behind  the  brush  and  fallen  timber,  and 
soon  surrounded  the  camp  on  all  sides.  The  pickets 
were  either  killed  or  driven  in  upon  the  centre;  while 
wild  yells,  cries  of  defiance,  and  savage  catcalls  issued 
from  the  followers  of  Little  Turtle. 

But  now  the  battle  was  on  in  earnest,  and  the  Indians 
ceased  their  cries  to  creep  from  log  to  log,  from  tree  to 
tree,  and  closer  to  the  American  line.  The  deep  boom 
of  the  cannon  reverberated  through  the  forest,  as  the 
regulars  turned  their  pieces  against  the  foe.  The  soldiers 
foolishly  stood  in  close  order,  and,  as  they  were  in  the 
open,  they  were  a  shining  mark  for  the  balls  of  the 
Indians.  Men  fell  dead  and  wounded  upon  every  side; 
the  lines  began  to  waver  and  break,  while  St.  Clair  and 
Butler  walked  behind  their  men,  urging  them  to  be  cool, 
and  to  hold  their  own  without  flinching.  St.  Glair's 
blanket,  coat  and  leggins  were  pierced  by  eight  bullets; 
a  lock  of  his  gray  hair  was  clipped  off  by  a  ball;  yet  he 
came  through  the  battle  unscathed.  Butler  had  less 
good  fortune.  His  arm  was  broken  by  a  leaden  missile; 
another  struck  him  in  the  side,  so  that  he  had  to  be 
carried  to  the  centre  of  the  line.  Here,  propped  up  upon 
knapsacks,  he  directed  the  fighting  with  grim  good 
humor  until,  in  one  of  the  Indian  charges,  a  painted 


294         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

warrior  broke  through  the  American  line  and  buried  his 
tomahawk  in  his  brain. 

The  cannon  kept  up  their  fire,  but  the  savages  turned 
their  unerring  rifles  upon  the  gunners,  and  soon  had 
killed  nearly  every  one  of  them.  When  they  saw  the 
men  lying  upon  the  ground,  they  took  courage,  and 
with  a  wild  yelping  made  a  charge  from  the  woodland 
in  the  endeavor  to  capture  the  pieces.  But  now  the 
Americans  could  see  the  skulking  foe,  and  with  bayonets 
fixed,  made  a  dash  into  the  oncoming  horde  of  painted 
braves.  The  Indians  did  not  wait  to  receive  the  blow, 
but,  turning  about,  scurried  helter-skelter  to  the  pro 
tection  of  the  forest,  into  which  the  victorious  rangers 
ran  in  great  enthusiasm.  This  was  shortlived,  for  the 
redskins  quickly  surrounded  them  in  the  rear,  poured 
in  a  galling  fire  from  behind  the  protection  of  stumps 
and  logs,  and,  before  they  could  get  back  to  their  own 
line,  had  killed  one-half  of  those  who  had  charged  them. 
One  detachment  rushed  across  the  Wabash  in  pursuit  of 
the  Indians,  and,  before  the  men  returned  to  the  Ameri 
can  line,  nearly  all  had  been  slaughtered.  The  dead 
were  lying  about  in  heaps;  the  tomahawks  of  the  Indians 
dispatched  every  man  who  was  breathing;  while,  as 
one  of  the  packers  has  written  in  his  memoirs,  "the 
bleeding  heads  of  the  scalped  artillerymen  and  rangers 
looked  like  pumpkins  in  a  December  cornfield  on  the 
farm  in  Pennsylvania." 

The  fight  had  now  lasted  all  day,  and  the  American 
army  had  begun  to  realize  that  it  was  impossible  to  de 
feat  the  bloodthirsty  followers  of  Little  Turtle,  who, 
emboldened  by  the  disorganization  in  the  ranks  of  the 


LITTLE   TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    295 

white  men,  now  pushed  in  upon  them  from  every 
quarter.  It  was  five  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  the 
ranks  began  to  give  away.  The  camp  and  artillery 
were  abandoned.  Most  of  the  militia  threw  away  their 
arms  and  accoutrements.  St.  Clair  in  vain  endeavored 
to  stem  the  torrent  of  the  rout.  Horses,  soldiers,  and 
the  few  camp  followers  and  women  who  had  accom 
panied  the  army  were  all  mixed  together  in  a  con 
fusion  of  panic-stricken  uselessness.  But  out  of  the 
rabble  St.  Clair  managed  to  get  enough  men  together 
to  charge  the  savages,  who  held  the  roadway  in  the  rear, 
to  push  them  aside,  and  make  room  for  the  torrent  of 
fugitives  who  now  ran  for  their  lives  towards  Fort 
Jefferson.  The  troops  pressed  on  like  a  drove  of  bul 
locks.  They  stampeded;  they  fled  ignominiously;  while 
in  their  rear  the  wild  wail  of  jubilation  from  the  vic 
torious  red  men  sounded  harshly  from  the  dark  back 
ground  of  the  frozen  forest.  St.  Clair,  like  Braddock, 
had  been  overwhelmingly  repulsed. 

From  the  moment  of  retreat  until  sunset  the  yelping 
redskins  followed  the  panic-stricken  Americans.  Thirty- 
eight  officers  and  five  hundred  and  ninety-three  men 
were  slain  or  missing,  while  twenty-one  officers  and  two 
hundred  and  forty-two  men  were  wounded,  many  of 
whom  died  soon  afterwards,  so  that  practically  two- 
thirds  of  the  entire  force  of  fourteen  hundred  were  either 
lost  or  disabled.  What  a  terrible  defeat!  What  a 
humiliating  blow!  And  all  through  the  sagacity  and 
ability  of  Little  Turtle,  Chief  of  the  Miamis,  the  man 
with  a  red  skin  who  organized  and  led  an  Indian  arm} 
in  a  manner  equal  to  the  best  of  white  leaders.  Fortu 


296          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

nate,  indeed,  was  it  that  the  Indians  stopped  to  plunder 
the  camp  of  the  Americans,  for,  had  they  kept  on,  it 
is  probable  that  only  a  few  stragglers  would  have  lived 
to  tell  the  tale  of  the  awful  butchery.  "Five  hundred 
skull  bones  lay  in  the  space  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
yards/'  said  an  American  general,  who  visited  the 
battle  ground  not  many  months  after  the  defeat.  "  From 
thence,  five  miles  on,  the  woods  were  strewn  with 
skeletons,  muskets,  broken  wagons,  knapsacks  and  other 
debris."  The  loss  to  Little  Turtle's  men  has  never  been 
ascertained,  but  it  is  certain  that  his  dead  and  missing 
were  not  proportionate  to  those  of  St.  Clair. 

At  Fort  Jefferson  the  most  severely  wounded  were 
left,  while  the  rest  of  the  troops,  in  fear  and  utter  dis 
organization,  hurried  forward  to  Fort  Washington  and 
the  log  huts  of  Cincinnati.  Here  they  huddled  in  se 
curity,  cursing  their  ill  fortune,  their  losses,  and  the 
Indians.  An  American  officer  who  ran  into  a  party  of 
thirty  braves  near  the  battle  ground  a  day  or  two  after 
the  defeat  (and  who  was  held  by  them  until  he  per 
suaded  them  that  he  was  an  Englishman  from  Canada), 
was  told  that  the  troops  under  Little  Turtle  numbered 
but  fifteen  hundred,  and  that  the  number  of  killed  was 
fifty-six.  One  of  these  warriors  dangled  one  hundred 
and  twenty-seven  American  scalps  on  a  pole  before  his 
eyes,  while  they  had  three  pack  horses  laden  with  as 
much  wine  and  kegs  of  brandy  as  could  be  strapped 
to  their  backs.  The  savages  were  all  much  emboldened 
by  their  great  victory,  and  numerous  raids  upon  the 
border  showed  that  they  were  more  unfriendly  to  the 
whites  than  ever. 


LITTLE  TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    297 

It  was  six  weeks  before  the  Federal  authorities  and 
General  Washington  knew  of  this  catastrophe.  Denny, 
a  young  Lieutenant,  carried  word  of  the  defeat  by  horse 
to  Philadelphia,  where  was  then  the  seat  of  Federal 
Government.  Washington  was  at  dinner  with  company 
when  the  news  of  the  disaster  reached  him,  and,  with  an 
apology  to  his  guests,  left  the  table  to  receive  it.  He 
shortly  returned  and  resumed  his  chair  without  any 
allusion  to  the  incident.  At  ten  o'clock  the  guests  de 
parted  and  left  the  President  alone  with  his  secretary, 
Mr.  Lear.  The  General  walked  slowly  backward  and 
forward  for  a  considerable  length  of  time  in  silence;  then 
taking  a  seat  on  the  sofa  near  the  fire,  he  told  Mr.  Lear 
to  sit  down.  The  latter  had  not  noticed  that  the  great 
man  was  extremely  agitated,  when  he  suddenly  broke  out 
with:  "It's  all  over!  St.  Clair  is  defeated!  routed, 
the  officers  nearly  all  killed,  the  men  by  wholesale,  the 
rout  complete,  too  shocking  to  think  of,  and  a  surprise 
into  the  bargain!"  He  made  these  remarks  with  great 
vehemence;  then  pausing  and  rising  from  the  sofa,  he 
walked  up  and  down  the  room  in  silence,  violently 
agitated,  but  saying  nothing.  When  near  the  door 
he  stopped  short,  stood  still  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  again  exploded  with  wrath: 

"Yes,"  he  thundered.  "Here,  on  this  very  spot,  I 
took  leave  of  him;  I  wished  him  success  and  honor. 
'You  have  your  instructions  from  the  Secretary  of 
War,'  said  I,  'I  had  a  strict  eye  to  them,  and  will  add  but 
one  word,  Beware  of  a  Surprise!  You  know  how  the 
Indians  fight  us.  I  repeat  it,  Beware  of  a  Surprise!'  He 
went  off  with  that,  my  last  warning,  thrown  into  his 


298         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

ears.  And  yet !  To  suffer  that  army  to  be  cut  to  pieces, 
hacked,  butchered,  tomahawked  by  a  surprise,  the 
very  thing  I  guarded  him  against.  0  God!  0  God!" 
exclaimed  the  agitated  President,  throwing  up  his  hands, 
while  his  very  frame  shook  with  emotion.  "He's  worse 
than  a  murderer!  How  can  he  answer  to  his  country? 
The  blood  of  the  slain  is  upon  him,  the  curse  of  widows 
and  orphans,  the  curse  of  heaven!" 

Mr.  Lear  remained  speechless;  awed  into  breathless 
silence  by  the  appalling  tone  in  which  the  torrent  of 
invective  was  poured  forth.  The  paroxysm  passed  by, 
and  Washington  sank  down  upon  the  sofa,  silent,  with 
bowed  head,  as  if  conscious  of  the  ungovernable  burst 
of  passion  which  had  overcome  him.  "This  must  not 
go  beyond  this  room,"  said  he,  at  length,  in  a  subdued 
and  altered  tone.  Then  in  a  quiet,  low  voice  he  added: 
"General  St.  Clair  shall  have  justice.  I  looked  hastily 
through  the  dispatches;  saw  the  whole  disaster;  but 
not  all  the  particulars.  I  will  receive  him  with  dis 
pleasure;  I  will  hear  him  without  prejudice;  he  shall 
have  full  justice!" 

Thus,  in  due  time,  St.  Clair  presented  himself  before 
Washington,  and,  although  fearful  of  the  reception 
which  he  would  receive,  he  was  earnestly  and  respect 
fully  listened  to  by  the  President.  The  overwhelming 
nature  of  his  defeat  had  been  due  to  his  incompetence, 
to  his  inability  to  teach  the  raw  troops  how  to  fight, 
Indian-fashion,  before  he  began  his  march  against  the 
followers  of  Little  Turtle,  and  to  his  failure  to  send  out 
proper  scouts. 

Although  deeply  chagrined  by  the  defeat,  Congress  did 


LITTLE   TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    299 

not  sit  idle,  and  soon  made  preparations  for  another 
army  of  Indian  fighters.  The  chief  command  this  time 
was  intrusted  to  "Mad  Anthony"  Wayne,  the  hero  of 
Stony  Point,  and  a  man  to  whom  the  smell  of  burning 
powder  was  as  champagne.  He  not  only  loved  a  good 
fight,  but  he  knew  how  to  handle  men,  how  to  gain 
their  confidence,  and  how  to  whip  raw  levies  into  ex 
cellent  fighting  material.  He  accepted  the  command 
only  on  condition  that  he  be  given  plenty  of  time  to 
drill  and  equip  his  troops.  The  Indians,  themselves, 
appreciated  his  worth.  He  was  called  "The  Black 
Snake"  by  them,  because  he  was  supposed  to  possess 
the  superior  cunning  of  this  reptile,  and  to  be  able  to 
creep  through  the  forest  like  the  moccasin.  His  choice 
to  the  chief  command  of  the  army  was  soon  to  be  justi 
fied  by  results.  Yet  two  years  elapsed  from  the  time 
of  St.  Glair's  dreadful  defeat  before  Wayne  attempted 
to  press  through  the  wilderness  into  the  land  of  the 
Miamis. 

During  these  two  years  numerous  petty  forays  were 
made  by  the  Indians  against  the  border  settlements. 
Little  Turtle  was  in  some  of  these,  and  in  November, 
1792,  made  a  violent  attack  upon  a  detachment  of  Ken 
tucky  volunteers  near  Fort  St.  Clair  on  the  frontier.  A 
stubborn  battle  was  waged  all  day,  at  the  end  of  which, 
Major  Marshall  (who  commanded  the  American  rangers) 
was  driven  pellmell  into  the  fort  (about  half  a  mile) 
with  the  loss  of  six  killed,  the  camp  equipage  taken,  and 
one  hundred  and  forty  pack  horses  secured  by  the 
Miami  and  Shawnee  braves.  The  Indians  lost  but  two 
men.  Again  in  June,  1794,  this  now  much-dreaded 


300         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Little  Turtle  was  in  an  attack  upon  Fort  Recovery,  in 
which  he  exhibited  masterful  strategy,  and  in  which 
a  large  detachment  of  American  rangers,  under  Major 
McMahon,  was  cut  to  pieces  and  stampeded.  Repeated 
efforts  were  made  by  the  American  Government  to  secure 
a  treaty  of  peace  with  the  kiami  warrior,  but  to  all 
overtures  he  turned  a  deaf  ear.  "  We  will  hold  our  own 
country  for  our  own  people/'  said  he.  "  Indian  land 
is  for  the  Indian.  The  white  man  must  go  away." 

But  the  white  man,  as  usual,  would  not  go  away. 
Instead,  he  came  on  with  renewed  courage,  resources, 
and  determination.  Little  Turtle  warned  his  warriors 
that  they  must  prepare  for  another  struggle,  and  coun 
selled  them  to  practice  evolutions  and  warfare.  They 
paid  little  attention  to  these  commands.  "  There  are 
more  long  knives  under  the  Great  Snake  than  have 
ever  come  against  us  before,"  said  he.  "They  are  led 
by  the  best  general  of  all  the  palefaces.  Would  it  not 
be  well  if  we  made  a  treaty  of  peace  and  lived  in  friendly 
relations  to  these  invaders?" 

"No,  no,"  shouted  his  hearers.  "We  will  fight! 
Lead  us  again  into  battle,  let  your  heart  not  shrink  at 
the  numbers  of  the  long  knives.  We  can  defeat  them! 
We  will  leave  them  for  the  wolves  to  feast  on,  even  as 
we  left  the  men  of  St.  Glair's  army.  We  will  fight!" 
So  the  far-seeing  chieftain  of  the  Miamis  had  to  again 
lead  his  supposedly  invincible  warriors  against  the  foe. 

When  the  bleaching  skeletons  of  St.  Glair's  men  had 
been  buried  in  the  dense  forest,  Wayne  erected  the  fort, 
called  Fort  Recovery,  and  then,  pressing  onward  through 
the  Indian  country,  he  built  another  big  fortress,  called 


LITTLE   TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    301 

Fort  Defiance,  at  the  confluence  of  the  Au-Glaize  and 
Miami  rivers.  He  had  two  thousand  regulars  and 
eleven  hundred  Kentucky  horsemen  with  him;  the  latter 
being  well  used  to  border  warfare,  and  excellent  woods 
men.  Then,  the  soldiers  all  liked  the  Commander-in- 
Chief  and  had  full  confidence  in  his  ability,  which  gave 
them  an  esprit  de  corps,  without  which  no  army  can 
accomplish  anything.  Wayne,  himself,  was  at  the 
furthermost  post  when  the  attack  was  made  upon  Fort 
Recovery  by  the  savages,  under  Little  Turtle,  and  three 
weeks  after  this  he  pressed  forward  against  the  Miami 
towns.  Determined  to  avoid  the  fate  of  Braddock  and 
St.  Clair,  he  kept  his  force  always  in  open  order  and 
ready  for  the  fray,  while  scouts  hovered  continually  on 
his  flanks  and  front.  Every  night  breastworks  of  fallen 
trees  were  thrown  up  around  his  camps  so  that  the 
savages  could  not  "rush"  the  soldiers.  "The  paleface 
takes  his  army  twice  as  far  in  a  day  as  did  St.  Clair," 
said  the  Indian  scouts  who  watched  his  advance.  "  He 
has  men  out  on  every  side  and  it  will  be  impossible  to 
ambush  him.  We  must  fight  and  fight  hard  against 
this  Big  Serpent,  for  he  means  to  win."  Small  parties 
of  friendly  Chickasaw  or  Choctaw  Indians  threaded  the 
forest  miles  in  advance  of  the  marching  army.  White 
Indian  fighters  assisted  them  in  watching  the  Miami 
and  other  hostiles,  and  thus,  like  a  huge  wolf  of  the 
woods,  the  army  of  "Mad  Anthony"  Wayne  crept 
silently,  stealthily,  and  ominously  towards  the  villages 
of  the  unfriendly  redskins. 

Wayne  had  sent  an  offer  of  peace  to  the  followers  of 
Little  Turtle  from  Fort  Defiance,  and  had  summoned 


302         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

them  to  dispatch  deputies  to  meet  him.  The  letter  was 
carried  by  Christopher  Miller  and  a  Shawnee  prisoner, 
and  in  it  the  American  general  said:  "Miller  is  a 
Shawnee  by  adoption  whom  my  soldiers  captured  six 
months  ago,  and  the  Shawnee  warrior  was  taken  two 
days  ago.  I  have  taken  several  Indians  prisoner  and 
they  have  been  treated  well.  They  will  be  put  to  death 
if  Miller  is  harmed."  When,  therefore,  these  envoys 
arrived  at  the  camp  of  Little  Turtle,  the  Indians  were 
afraid  to  kill  them,  but  they  endeavored  to  delay  their 
answer  and  would  not  send  back  a  reply.  So  the  now 
determined  "Mad  Anthony"  advanced  against  them 
immediately  and  laid  waste  the  cornfields  which  the 
Miamis  had  planted,  and  which  lay  in  the  route  of  his 
troops. 

Soon  the  ever-ready  frontiersmen  burst  through  the 
woodland  near  the  Maumee  rapids,  only  a  few  miles 
below  a  British  fort,  called  Fort  Maumee,  well  garrisoned 
and  well  supplied.  A  rough  breastwork  was  con 
structed  to  protect  the  American  stores  and  baggage, 
and  scouts  were  sent  forward  to  view  the  position  of  the 
followers  of  Little  Turtle.  Between  fifteen  hundred 
and  two  thousand  warriors  with  seventy  rangers  from 
Detroit,  composed  of  French,  English  and  refugee 
Americans,  were  in  force  near  the  walls  of  the  English 
stockade.  The  Indians  were  Shawnees,  Wyandots, 
Ottawas,  Miamis,  Pottawattamies,  Chippewas  and  Iro- 
quois.  They  lay  in  a  place  called  Fallen  Timbers,  be 
cause  the  wind  had  here  blown  down  the  trees  of  the 
forest  and  had  piled  them  up  in  dense  rows.  It  was 
an  excellent  place  for  defense,  and  Little  Turtle  had 


LITTLE  TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    303 

shown  his  sagacity  in  selecting  it.  With  confidence 
the  painted  warriors  waited  for  the  attack,  as  they  knew 
that  their  position  was  a  good  one,  and  despised  the 
Americans,  whom  they  had  so  signally  routed  under  St. 
Clair.  Their  line  was  about  two  miles  in  length  and 
all  were  well  armed. 

As  General  Wayne  scanned  the  Indian  position,  he 
quickly  made  up  his  mind  how  to  attack  it.  "The 
dragoons  will  advance  upon  the  right  flank,"  he  directed. 
"The  regular  cavalry  will  move  up  on  the  left  flank  near 
the  river.  The  infantry  will  form  in  two  lines  in  the 
centre,  and  will  first  fire,  and  then  charge  the  red  vermin 
with  the  bayonet.  The  mounted  volunteers  will  move 
over  far  to  the  left  and  will  turn  the  right  flank  of  the 
savages.  As  soon  as  all  are  ready,  attack  and  wipe  out 
St.  Glair's  ignominious  rout!"  The  subordinate  officers 
received  his  orders  with  enthusiasm  and  when  all  were 
prepared,  in  extended  order,  the  whole  line  moved  out 
for  the  fray. 

In  the  centre  of  Wayne's  troops  was  a  small  force 
of  mounted  volunteers — Kentucky  militiamen — and 
they  were  well  in  advance  of  the  two  lines  of  infantry 
men.  With  a  wild  yell,  a  mass  of  savages  jumped  up 
from  the  protection  of  the  fallen  trees,  rushed  upon  the 
oncoming  riflemen,  and  soon  drove  them  back  into  the 
advancing  infantry.  But  this  success  was  not  lasting. 
A  volley  of  well-aimed  bullets  checked  their  howling  ad 
vance,  and,  with  a  dogged  persistence,  the  rangers  crept 
on  upon  the  savages,  reserving  their  fire  by  strict  orders 
from  their  beloved  "Mad  Anthony."  As  they  came 
forward,  the  Indians  leaped  up  to  deliver  their  fire,  and, 


304         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

when  they  did  so,  the  Americans  poured  a  galling  volley 
into  their  ranks,  then,  fixing  bayonets,  rushed  pre 
cipitously  upon  them  before  they  had  time  to  load. 
As  they  charged,  the  cavalrymen,  with  hoarse  cheers, 
galloped  their  rawboned  steeds  into  the  left  flank  of  the 
Indian  line.  Their  horses  jumped  across  the  fallen  logs, 
and  in  an  instant  they  were  in  the  midst  of  the  naked 
braves,  slashing  to  the  right  and  left  with  their  keen 
swords,  and  cutting  down  all  who  stood  in  their  way. 

"Hah!"  exclaimed  General  Wayne,  rubbing  his  hands. 
"They  give!  They  fall  back!  They  run!  The  day  is 
ours!"  As  he  spoke  a  galloping  aide  came  panting  to 
his  side.  "Captain  Campbell  is  killed,"  said  he,  "and 
Captain  Van  Rensselaer  is  down,  but  Lieutenant  Cov- 
ington  is  leading  the  dragoons,  and  they  are  driving  the 
redskins  before  them  like  a  crowd  of  sheep." 

He  spoke  only  too  truthfully,  for  unable  to  stand  up 
against  the  slashing  charge,  the  red  men  broke  and  fled 
before  the  enthusiastic  troopers  of  "Mad  Anthony" 
Wayne.  When  the  painted  and  half-naked  braves  at 
tempted  to  make  a  stand,  they  were  knocked  down  with 
ease  The  second  line  of  infantrymen  did  not  cross  the 
fallen  timber  in  time  to  get  a  shot  at  the  disappearing 
warriors  of  Little  Turtle.  On  the  left  flank,  the  horse- 
riflemen  had  nothing  to  charge  when  they  galloped  into 
the  thickets,  for  the  un valiant  red  warriors  had  vanished. 
About  a  hundred  braves  lay  dead  and  dying  upon  the 
field.  Mixed  in  among  them  were  a  few  of  the  white 
renegades  who  had  joined  them.  The  action  had  lasted 
but  forty  minutes,  and  the  defeats  of  Harmar  and  St. 
Clair  had  been  forever  vindicated. 


LITTLE  TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    305 

For  two  miles  the  now  excited  Americans  rushed  after 
the  vaunted  warriors  of  the  frontier,  who  had  adopted 
the  ancient  motto:  "He  who  fights  and  runs  away 
will  live  to  fight  another  day."  The  fugitives  dashed 
up  to  the  walls  of  the  British  fort  and  implored  admit 
tance,  but  the  garrison  greeted  their  request  with  curses, 
and  bolted  the  doorway  in  their  faces.  So  they  were 
forced  to  rush  off  into  the  dense  woodland.  "Burn 
everything  up  to  the  walls  of  the  fort,"  commanded 
General  Wayne.  "Cut  down  the  crops  of  the  Indians, 
destroy  their  villages,  level  the  houses  of  the  British 
agents  and  traders  to  the  sod.  I  want  to  give  this 
Little  Turtle  and  his  men  a  lesson  which  they  will  never 
cease  to  remember!"  The  British  commander  in  Fort 
Maumee  vigorously  protested  against  this,  but  Wayne 
summoned  him  to  abandon  his  stockades,  which  he,  of 
course,  refused,  and,  not  daring  to  interfere,  saw  the 
homes  of  his  Indian  allies  soon  blazing  and  covered  with 
a  pall  of  thick,  black  vapor.  The  work  of  destruction 
was  quickly  over,  and  the  victorious  American  army 
was  on  its  way  back  to  Fort  Defiance. 

The  troops  went  into  winter  quarters  at  Greenville, 
while  the  Indians  were  severely  disheartened  by  their 
defeat.  Their  anger  was  intense  against  the  British, 
for  these  people  had  goaded  them  on  to  war,  had  given 
them  material  aid,  and,  as  soon  as  the  fortune  of  battle 
went  against  them,  had  abandoned  them  to  their  fate. 
Starvation  and  hunger  were  rampant,  as  their  homes, 
crop  and  stores  of  provisions  had  been  completely  de 
stroyed.  Their  cattle,  and  even  their  dogs,  had  died, 
and,  as  the  British  in  Fort  Maumee  would  give  them  no 


306         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

food,  they  sent  envoy  after  envoy  to  the  Americans  to 
exchange  prisoners,  and  to  promise  that,  in  the  spring, 
they  would  make  peace.  All  the  leaders  now  recognized 
that  it  was  time  to  make  terms  with  Wayne,  and  many 
now  appreciated  that  they  should  have  listened  to  the 
counsel  of  Little  Turtle,  before  the  exasperating  defeat 
at  the  Fallen  Timbers.  On  February  llth,  the  Shaw- 
nees,  Delawares  and  Miamis  entered  into  a  preliminary 
treaty  with  General  Wayne,  and  in  the  summer  of  1795 
made  a  definite  peace  at  Greenville.  "Elder  Brother/' 
said  a  Chippewa  chief,  "you  asked  me  who  were  the 
true  owners  of  the  land  now  ceded  to  the  United  States. 
In  answer  I  tell  you,  if  any  nations  should  call  them 
selves  the  owners  of  it  they  would  be  guilty  of  falsehood ; 
our  claim  to  it  is  equal;  our  Elder  Brother  had  con 
quered  it." 

Thus  another  step  westward  was  made  by  the  whites, 
and  another  war  had  added  thousands  of  square  miles  of 
territory  to  the  people  of  the  United  States.  The 
survival  of  the  most  fit  was  evident,  for,  had  the  red  men 
possessed  the  same  mental  characteristics  which  the 
whites  possessed,  they  would  have  beaten  not  two 
armies,  but  three  armies.  This  small  difference  of 
ability  had  made  them  the  submitting  nation,  while  the 
powerful  Anglo-Saxons  now  pushed  their  civilization 
into  the  unbroken  forest,  soon  killed  off  all  the  game, 
built  smoky  cities,  railroads,  and  steamboats;  cut  down 
all  the  timber,  grew  corn,  oats  and  potatoes,  and  utilized 
the  resources  of  the  soil  to  its  utmost  capacity. 

Little  Turtle  settled  on  Eel  River  about  twenty  miles 
from  Fort  Wayne,  where  the  American  troops  built  him 


LITTLE   TURTLE:  CONQUEROR    307 

a  comfortable  house.  He  made  frequent  visits  to 
Philadelphia  and  Washington,  and  was  made  much  of 
by  the  agents,  who  appreciated  his  worth.  But  this 
destroyed,  for  a  time,  at  least,  his  influence  among  the 
people  of  his  own  color,  who  suspected  his  honesty  and 
envied  his  good  fortune.  He,  therefore,  often  opposed 
the  desires  of  the  United  States  Government  in  order 
to  regain  his  popularity  with  his  red  brethren.  No 
prisoner  had  ever  been  tortured  by  his  warriors,  as  he 
opposed  this  brutal  practice.  Nor  would  he  allow 
captives  to  be  burned  at  the  stake.  With  energy  he 
devoted  himself  to  the  spread  of  temperance  among 
the  members  of  his  own  tribe,  for  he  saw  the  awful  re 
sults  which  bad  whiskey  had  upon  the  once  warlike 
braves.  "These  white  traders  strip  the  poor  Indians  of 
skins,  gun,  blanket,  everything,  while  his  squaw  and  the 
children  dependent  upon  him  be  starving  in  his  wig 
wam,"  said  he.  "My  people  barter  away  their  best 
treasures  for  the  whit3  man's  miserable  firewater." 

Greatly  respected  and  deeply  interested  in  the  prob 
lems  among  his  own  people,  Little  Turtle  spent  his 
declining  years.  When  asked  one  day  why  he  did  not 
live  in  Philadelphia  instead  of  in  his  cabin  on  the  Wabash, 
he  replied:  "I  admit  that  you  whites  live  better  than 
do  we  red  men,  but  I  could  not  live  with  you  because 
I  am  as  a  deaf  and  dumb  man.  I  cannot  talk  your 
language.  When  I  walk  through  the  city  streets  I  see 
every  person  in  his  shop  employed  at  something.  One 
makes  shoes,  another  makes  hats,  a  third  sells  cloth,  and 
everyone  lives  by  his  labor.  I  say  to  myself,  'Which 
of  these  things  can  you  do?'  Not  one.  I  can  make  a 


308         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

bow  or  an  arrow,  catch  fish,  kill  game,  and  go  to  war, 
but  none  of  these  are  any  good  here.  To  learn  what  is 
done  in  Philadelphia  would  require  a  long  time.  Old 
age  is  coming  on  me;  I  should  be  a  piece  of  furniture 
among  the  whites,  useless  to  them,  useless  to  myself. 
I  must  return  to  my  own  country." 

What  he  said  of  old  age  coming  on  was  only  too  true. 
Not  long  afterwards  he  came  to  his  death  on  the  turf  of 
the  open  camp,  and  with  the  composure  which  character 
izes  his  race.  He  was  buried  at  Fort  Wayne  with  all  the 
honors  of  war,  and,  it  is  said,  was  about  seventy  years 
of  age  at  the  time  of  his  departure  to  the  Happy  Hunting 
Grounds:  those  fields  of  elysian  bliss  of  which  the  old 
Indian  poets  have  told  in  song  and  story.  Courageous, 
kind,  far-seeing,  eloquent,  well-balanced,  the  memory 
of  Little  Turtle  yet  stirs  the  hearts  of  his  few  descend 
ants,  who  look  back  upon  his  career  with  satisfaction 
and  high  regard. 


Courtesy  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  Smithsonian  Institute. 
TECUMSEH. 


TECUMSEH,  "THE  SHOOTING  STAR": 

CELEBRATED  SHAWANOE 

DIPLOMAT,  ORATOR 

AND  SOLDIER 

WHEN  Little  Turtle  and  his  army  were  battling 
with  "Mad  Anthony"  Wayne  at  Fallen 
Timbers,  one  warrior — a  Shawanoe — was  pres 
ent,  who  was  subsequently  to  play  an  important  part 
in  the  struggle  between  the  whites  and  redskins  for 
the  possession  of  America.  This  was  Tecumseh,  or 
"The  Shooting  Star/'  a  Shawanoe,  or  Shawnee  warrior 
who  was  born  on  the  Mad  River  in  Ohio,  in  1768,  and 
whose  father  was  killed  in  the  fierce  battle  of  the  Great 
Kanawha.  His  twin  brother,  Elsk-wata-wa,  the  Prophet, 
was  to  become  a  man  of  note  among  the  Western 
Indians,  just  as  he  was,  himself,  to  obtain  fame  and 
notoriety. 

The  people  of  the  tribe  to  which  this  celebrated 
man  belonged  were  noted  for  "much  talk"  as  well  as 
for  hard  fighting,  and  Tecumseh  was  never  at  a  loss 
for  words.  His  appearance  was  always  noble,  his  form 
symmetrical,  his  carriage  erect  and  lofty,  his  motions 
commanding,  and,  under  the  excitement  of  his  favorite 
theme  of  driving  the  American  invaders  from  the  lands 
of  the  Indians,  he  became  a  new  being.  When  speaking 

309 


310         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

upon  the  subject,  his  countenance  would  light  up  with 
fiery  and  haughty  pride;  his  frame  would  swell  with 
emotion;  every  posture  which  he  assumed,  and  every 
gesture,  would  be  eloquent  with  meaning.  At  the  same 
time,  his  language  would  flow  with  glowing  eloquence, 
as  it  spoke  the  passionate  thoughts  of  his  very  soul. 
His  manner,  too,  was  never  coarse,  nor  was  there  any 
show  of  cruelty  in  his  disposition.  He  was  a  man  of 
mark  among  the  many  Indians  who  opposed  the  ad 
vance  of  the  whites  into  the  country  watered  by  the 
slow-moving  Ohio. 

When  the  treaty  of  Greenville  was  signed,  this 
eminent  redskin  was  about  twenty-five  years  of  age, 
and,  secluding  himself  in  the  forests  of  his  own  coun 
try,  he  there  lived  the  existence  of  a  hunter  and  trapper. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  he  was  in  the  numerous 
Indian  forays  which  took  place  upon  the  frontier  at  this 
time.  In  fact,  various  stories  have  come  down  to  us 
that  exhibit  his  friendliness  to  the  whites  whom  he  met 
in  the  forest.  A  band  of  roving  Shawnees  often  hunted 
with  him,  and,  because  of  his  ability  to  sway  their 
spirits  with  his  words  and  because  of  his  prowess  in 
hunting,  he  was  elected  chief  of  this  small  body  of 
woodland  rovers. 

One  day  a  number  of  Shawnees  wagered  Tecumseh 
that  each  of  them  could  kill  as  many  deer  in  three 
days  of  hunting  as  he,  himself,  could.  "I  accept  your 
challenge,"  said  the  great  chief,  "and  I  will  return  here 
within  the  period  with  twice  as  many  deer  as  any  of 
you."  So  making  the  proper  preparations  that  evening, 
he  departed  next  morn  at  daybreak  into  the  forest. 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      311 

Three  days  elapsed  before  any  of  the  huntsmen  came 
back,  but  at  dusk  of  the  third  day  since  their  de 
parture  all  returned  with  their  shoulders  burdened 
with  the  game  which  had  fallen  by  their  skill.  "Ugh! 
Ugh!"  said  one,  "I  have  killed  twelve.  I  have  good 
my  boast!"  "And  I  thirteen,"  cried  another.  But, 
as  he  spoke,  Tecumseh  came  into  the  light  of  the  fire, 
staggering  beneath  a  load  of  peltries.  "  Here  are  thirty 
deerskins,"  said  he,  depositing  his  bundle  before  the 
other  hunters.  "The  carcasses  are  in  the  woods  and 
I  will  go  to  get  the  haunches  tomorrow." 

Shortly  after  this  the  Shawnee  chief  entered  the 
cabin  of  a  white  pioneer  upon  the  frontier.  This 
borderer  was  friendly  to  him  and  would  often  hunt  with 
him  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the  forest.  So  Tecumseh 
stalked  in  without  introduction,  and,  with  much  gravity, 
seated  himself  in  a  rough  hewn  chair.  A  fat  Ken- 
tuckian  was  sitting  in  the  cabin.  When  he  saw  the 
noted  warrior,  he  began  to  shake  and  tremble  with  fear, 
a  fact  which  seemed  to  amuse  the  celebrated  Indian. 
With  a  meaning  glance  at  the  owner  of  the  cabin,  Te 
cumseh  remarked:  "I  have  just  returned  from  a  night 
hunt  against  the  palefaces.  Thirty  scalps  hang  in  my 
wigwam,  which  I  have  secured  in  this  expedition. 
But  I  am  looking  for  just  one  more."  Here  he  laid  his 
hand  upon  his  tomahawk.  "And  I  must  have  this 
scalp  before  the  setting  of  the  sun,"  he  thundered. 

The  Kentuckian  was  now  ghastly  pale  and  was 
trembling  with  fear.  This  seemed  to  please  the  famous 
Shawnee,  and,  walking  over  to  him,  he  placed  his  hand 
upon  his  broad  and  shaking  shoulder.  "  You  are  scared, 


312         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

are  you  not?"  said  he.  "But  there  is  no  reason  for  it. 
Ugh!  Ugh!  I  am  just  playing  with  you.  I  would  not 
hurt  a  hair  upon  your  head."  As  he  spoke,  his  host 
burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  which  showed  the  frightened 
borderer  that  an  Indian  could  joke  as  well  as  a  white 
man. 

During  this  period  there  is  no  doubt  that  Tecumseh 
brooded  over  the  fancied  wrongs  to  the  members  of 
his  own  race  and  meditated  upon  some  method  of 
keeping  the  white  settlers  away  from  the  lands  of  his 
forefathers.  His  brother,  Elsk-wata-wa,  assumed  the 
name  and  functions  of  a  prophet  and  reformer  among 
the  red  men,  established  headquarters  at  Greenville, 
and  told  them  that  he  had  received  a  divine  inspiration 
to  go  among  them  and  save  them  from  extinction. 
Calling  himself  Tensk-wata-wa,  or  "The  Open  Door," 
he  asserted  that  the  Great  Spirit  had  selected  him  as  a 
means  of  deliverance  to  his  people.  Tecumseh  ap 
proved  of  this — his  brother's  course — and  did  all  within 
his  power  to  aid  him  in  knitting  together  the  savages 
into  a  well-organized  clan.  A  large  band  of  the  Shaw- 
nees,  Wyandots,  Pottawattamies,  Ottawas,  Chippewas, 
and  Kickapoos  soon  gathered  around  the  Prophet, 
who  told  them  that  the  Great  Spirit,  who  had  made  the 
red  men,  was  not  the  same  as  he  who  had  produced 
the  white  men,  and  that  all  the  misfortunes  among  their 
race  were  due  to  the  fact  that  they  had  tried  to  imitate 
the  manners  of  the  whites.  He  counselled  them  to 
form  a  great  Confederation,  to  live  righteous  lives,  and 
to  prepare  themselves  by  drill  and  practice  in  shooting, 
so  that,  when  the  time  came,  they  could  show  a  bold 


TECUMSEH:  THE   DIPLOMAT      313 

front  to  the  Americans.  The  Indians  were  seized  with 
a  great  religious  fever,  and,  burning  with  anger  at  the 
wrongs  which  they  considered  that  the  whites  had  heaped 
upon  their  race,  were  soon  in  a  condition  of  mind  which 
needed  very  little  to  flame  into  the  passion '  of  war. 

The  Commissioner  from  the  United  States  to  the 
Ohio  country,  and  the  Governor  of  this  territory,  was 
General  Harrison,  a  man  of  cool  judgment  and  ex 
cellent  military  genius.  His  headquarters  were  at  Fort 
Wayne,  in  the  present  state  of  Indiana,  although  he 
had  a  frontier  post  at  Vincennes.  His  border  troops 
wrere  not  equal  in  numbers  to  the  great  body  of  redskins 
in  the  surrounding  country,  but  they  were  well  armed, 
well  equipped,  and  ready  for  any  emergency.  In  1809 
this  able  American  General  concluded  a  treaty  between 
the  Delawares,  Miamis  and  Pottawattamies  at  Fort 
Wayne,  in  which  the  Indians  ceded  to  the  United  States 
Government  a  tract  of  land  extending  for  sixty  miles 
along  the  Wabash  River,  above  Vincennes.  The 
treaty  was  made  during  the  absence  of  Tecumseh  upon 
a  visit  to  a  neighboring  tribe,  and  without  either  his 
advice  or  knowledge.  None  of  his  followers,  or  those 
of  the  Prophet,  were  present  during  the  transaction. 
For  this  reason,  and  because  he  considered  that  the 
Indians  had  given  up  too  much  of  their  land,  Tecumseh 
was  furiously  angry,  and  threatened  to  kill  the  chiefs 
who  had  signed  the  treaty,  saying:  "The  Americans 
can  never  survey  this  land,  for  I  shall  kill  them  if  they 
attempt  to  do  it.  It  is  wrong  to  give  away  all  of  our 
possessions,  and,  if  our  people  continue  to  do  so,  there 
will  be  nothing  left  for  the  red  men." 


314         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

This  was  fierce  talk,  but  for  many  months  Tecumseh 
had  endeavored  to  form  a  great  confederation  of  the 
Western  tribes,  similar  to  that  of  Pontiac.  The  Western 
Indians  had  been  enemies  for  centuries,  so  that  it  was 
a  herculean  task  to  bring  them  together  in  bonds  of 
friendship.  Yet  the  astute  Tecumseh  visited  the 
Creeks  in  the  far  South,  and  secured  the  friendship  of 
Weatherford,  or  Red  Eagle;  the  tribes  living  upon  the 
farthest  extremity  of  Lake  Superior;  and  those  who 
camped  far  beyond  the  muddy  waters  of  the  Mississippi. 
For  four  years  he  pushed  through  the  wilderness,  some 
times  in  a  canoe,  and  sometimes  on  foot,  making  his 
camp  among  the  roving  bands  of  redskins,  or  alone  in 
the  solitude  of  the  forest.  Everywhere  he  would  hold 
conferences  and  long  pow-wows  with  the  chiefs  of  the 
Western  tribes  and  would  warn  them  that,  unless  they 
joined  with  him  and  his  brother — the  Prophet — in  a 
mighty  confederacy,  the  whites  would  soon  come  from 
the  East  in  overwhelming  numbers,  and  would  com 
pletely  cover  the  land  then  held  by  the  red  men.  "  You 
must  make  a  stand,  or  your  children  will  be  without 
hunting  grounds,"  he  would  say.  "Rise,  0  red  men, 
rise  to  defend  your  homes  from  invasion  by  the  whites!" 
These  appeals  were  not  in  vain;  the  redskins  prepared 
for  hostilities  under  his  leadership;  and  in  1810  it  wras 
said  that  he  controlled  more  than  sixteen  hundred 
warriors,  who  were  fully  prepared  for  a  long  cam 
paign. 

This  activity  of  Tecumseh  and  the  Prophet  gave 
Governor  Harrison  serious  alarm,  and  he  wrote  of  his 
fears  to  the  Government  at  Washington,  requesting 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      315 

more  men  and  more  arms  upon  the  frontier.     He  even 
called  Tecumseh  before  him,  and  said: 

"Why  are  you  trying  to  bring  about  a  union  of  the 
different  Indian  tribes?" 

The  great  chief  looked  keenly  at  him. 

"For  the  same  reason  that  you  have  brought  about 
a  union  of  your  colonies/'  he  answered.  "We  Indians 
have  never  objected  to  that,  and  what  business  is  it  of 
yours  what  we  do  among  ourselves?  Besides,  you  have 
so  many  cheats  and  scoundrels  among  you  that  we  must 
unite  in  order  to  save  ourselves  from  their  clutches. 
What  harm  is  there  in  this,  pray?  We  are  in  our  own 
country,  which  has  been  left  us  by  the  Great  Spirit." 

It  is  not  known  what  reply  the  Governor  made  to 
this,  but  it  is  known  that  Tecumseh  withdrew  to  Proph 
et's  Town,  a  settlement  which  he  and  his  brother  had 
made  on  the  Tippecanoe  River  (one  of  the  tributaries 
of  the  Wabash)  in  Indiana.  Here  was  a  large  body  of 
Indians  who  were  combining  practices  of  warfare  with 
their  religious  exercises,  and  were  often  insolent  to  the 
whites.  After  numerous  complaints  had  reached  him 
about  the  redskins  who  had  settled  at  Prophet's  Town, 
Governor  Harrison  sent  a  messenger  to  them,  asking  why 
they  had  established  themselves  here,  and  why  they 
made  such  active  preparations  for  war. 

"The  Great  Spirit  has  fixed  this  spot  for  the  Indian 
to  kindle  his  campfire,  and  he  dare  not  go  to  any  other," 
said  Tecumseh.  "  Elsk-wata-wa  and  his  brother  Te 
cumseh  must  remain  upon  the  banks  of  the  Tippecanoe, 
or  the  Great  Spirit  will  be  angry  with  them.  Evil 
birds  have  carried  false  news  to  my  father,  the  Governor. 


316         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Let  him  not  believe  that  Elsk-wata-wa;  the  Prophet, 
wishes  to  make  war  upon  him  and  his  people.  It  is  not 
true." 

The  messenger  brought  this  answer  back  to  Harrison, 
but  in  a  few  weeks  the  Governor  dispatched  a  Mr. 
Barren  to  Tippecanoe,  with  a  letter  requesting  the 
Indians  to  allow  the  land  to  be  surveyed,  to  live  at  peace 
with  the  white  settlers,  and  to  submit  to  the  Govern 
ment.  When  Barron  reached  Tippecanoe,  he  was  con 
ducted  with  great  ceremony  to  the  place  where  the 
Prophet  was  seated,  surrounded  by  numerous  braves 
in  their  gaudiest  raiment. 

In  a  tone  of  great  anger  and  scorn,  the  red  leader 
rose,  and  said:  "For  what  purpose  do  you  come  here? 
Bronilette  was  here;  he  was  a  spy.  Dubois  was  here;  he 
was  a  spy.  Now  you  have  come  here;  you,  also,  are  a 
spy.  There  is  your  grave!  Look  on  it!"  He  pointed, 
as  he  ceased  speaking,  to  the  ground  near  the  spot 
where  the  emissary  stood,  and  this  person  naturally  be 
gan  to  tremble  for  his  life. 

At  this  juncture,  the  majestic  Tecumseh  strode  from 
a  lodge,  and,  in  a  cold  and  haughty  tone,  said:  "Your 
life  is  in  no  danger.  Say  why  you  have  come  among  us." 

"Here  is  a  letter  from  Governor  Harrison,"  Barron 
replied.  "  I  will  read  it :  '  Tecumseh  and  Elsk-wata-wa, 
I  know  that  your  warriors  are  brave,  but  ours  are  not 
less  so.  What  can  your  few  brave  warriors  do  against 
the  innumerable  warriors  of  the  Seventeen  Fires 
(Seventeen  States)?  Our  bluecoats  are  more  numerous 
than  you  can  count;  our  hunters  are  like  leaves  in  the 
forest,  or  the  grains  of  sand  upon  the  Wabash.  Do  you 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      317 

think  that  the  redcoats  (British)  can  protect  you;  they 
are  not  even  able  to  protect  themselves.  They  do  not 
think  of  going  to  war  with  us.  If  they  did,  you  would 
soon  see  our  flag  wave  over  all  the  forts  of  Canada. 
What  reason  have  you  to  complain  of  the  Seventeen 
Fires?  Have  they  taken  anything  from  you?  Have 
they  ever  violated  any  of  the  treaties  made  with  the  red 
men?  You  say  that  they  have  purchased  lands  from 
those  who  had  no  right  to  sell  them.  Show  that  this  is 
so  and  the  land  will  be  instantly  restored.  Show  us 
the  rightful  owners.  I  have  full  power  to  arrange  this 
business,  but,  if  you  would  rather  carry  your  complaints 
before  your  great  father  in  Washington,  you  can  do  so.'" 

"I  like  this  letter,"  said  Tecumseh,  when  Barron  had 
finished.  "I  remember  your  Big  Chief  Harrison  when 
he  was  with  the  Big  Snake  (General  Wayne)  at  Fallen 
Timbers.  I  will  come  and  hold  a  council  with  him, 
with  thirty  of  my  principal  men.  Some  of  my  young 
men  will  wish  to  go,  too,  so  there  will  be  more  of  us. 
We  will  come  to  the  home  of  your  Big  Chief  in  a  short 
time." 

So  on  the  twelfth  of  August,  1810,  four  hundred 
warriors,  painted  red,  yellow  and  blue,  armed  with 
tomahawks  and  spears,  and  naked  to  the  waist,  paddled 
down  the  Wabash  to  confer  with  Harrison.  They 
were  a  fierce-looking  lot,  and  Tecumseh,  who  led  them, 
although  not  much  painted,  was  brilliant  in  new  clothes 
and  gorgeous  blankets. 

Harrison  learned  of  the  approach  of  the  Indians  from 
a  scout,  and  was  waiting  for  them  upon  the  front  porch 
of  his  own  house,  surrounded  by  a  small  guard  of  soldiers, 


318         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

many  citizens  of  Vincennes,  and  several  civil  and  mili 
tary  officers.  The  redskins  were  soon  seen  coming 
down  the  river,  and,  landing  upon  the  shore,  they  ap 
proached  the  house.  Advancing  to  within  about  forty 
yards  of  the  place  where  Harrison  was  sitting,  they  all 
halted,  and,  after  an  interpreter  was  sent  forward, 
Tecumseh  stated  that  he  refused  to  hold  the  council 
upon  the  porch,  but  would  do  so  in  a  grove  near  by. 
The  Governor  was  perfectly  willing  to  acquiesce,  and, 
moving  the  chairs  and  benches  to  the  grove,  the  whites 
seated  themselves,  while  the  redskins  squatted  upon 
the  grass. 

Tecumseh  now  began  to  speak.  "I  am  determined 
to  fight  against  the  cession  of  lands  held  by  the  Indians 
to  you  whites,  unless  all  the  tribes  assent  to  it,"  said 
he,  in  part.  "I  admit  that  I  attempted  to  kill  the 
chief  who  signed  the  Fort  Wayne  treaty,  and,  therefore, 
I  will  have  my  own  war  chiefs,  in  future,  manage  the 
affairs  of  our  people,  and  not  the  village  chiefs.  You 
Americans  have  driven  the  Indians  from  the  seacoast 
to  where  we  now  stand,  and  you  will  soon  drive  us  into 
the  lakes.  I  will  not  make  war  upon  your  bluecoats, 
but,  if  you  push  further  into  our  country,  I  cannot  hold 
back  my  followers  from  the  slaughter  of  your  people." 
He  then  made  a  summary  of  the  wrongs  which  his 
red  followers  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  whites, 
and,  as  he  spoke,  his  warriors  nodded  their  heads  in  ap 
proval,  saying:  "Ugh!  Ugh!  It  is  the  truth!" 

When  the  great  Indian  leader  had  finished  his  oration, 
he  turned  to  seat  himself,  but  no  chair  was  there,  and 
his  face  showed  annoyance  at  this  seeming  discourtesy. 


TECUMSEH:  THE   DIPLOMAT      319 

Appreciating  the  expression  upon  his  countenance, 
Governor  Harrison  immediately  ordered  a  chair  to  be 
brought  him,  and,  as  the  interpreter  handed  it  to  the 
celebrated  warrior,  he  remarked:  "Your  father  re 
quests  you  to  be  seated." 

Fire  flashed  from  the  beady  eyes  of  Tecumseh,  as  he 
exclaimed  in  a  loud  tone: 

"My  father,  eh?  The  sun  is  my  father,  and  the  earth 
is  my  mother.  On  her  bosom  I  will  repose,"  and,  draw 
ing  his  brilliant  blanket  around  him,  with  great  dignity, 
he  seated  himself  among  his  warriors  upon  the  ground. 

Not  at  all  disturbed  by  this  tart  reply,  Harrison 
continued:  "You  Indians  are  not  one  nation,  and  do 
not,  in  common,  own  this  territory.  The  Miamis  have 
been  the  real  owners  of  the  tract  on  the  Wabash,  which 
the  United  States  has  secured  during  the  late  treaty, 
and  you  Shawnees  have  no  right  to  interfere  with  their 
actions.  Upon  the  arrival  of  the  whites  in  this  country 
they  found  the  Miamis  in  possession  of  the  land,  and 
you  Shawnees  lived  in  Georgia,  from  whence  you  were 
driven  by  the  Creeks.  It  is  absurd  to  say  that  you 
Indians  constitute  one  nation,  for  if  the  Great  Spirit 
had  so  willed  it,  he  would  not  have  given  different 
languages  to  the  different  tribes." 

As  the  interpreter  told  this  to  Tecumseh,  his  eyes 
began  to  snap  angrily.  Then,  springing  to  his  feet,  he 
started  to  gesticulate  wildly  and  to  talk  in  loud,  vicious 
tones.  "What  is  he  saying?"  asked  the  Governor  of 
che  interpreter,  but  a  General  who  understood  the 
Shawnee  language  replied:  "These  red  devils  mean 
mischief,  Governor,  be  upon  your  guard." 


320         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

No  sooner  had  he  ceased  speaking  than  all  the  painted 
warriors  grasped  their  tomahawks,  leaped  to  their  feet, 
and  looked  angrily  and  vindictively  at  the  Governor. 
Harrison  sprang  from  his  chair,  drew  his  sword,  and  held 
it  before  him.  As  he  did  so,  a  friendly  chief,  who  stood 
near  by,  pulled  out  his  pistol,  and  a  Captain  of  the 
troops  seized  a  dirk  and  held  it  pointed  towards  the 
savages.  The  citizens  who  were  present  and  who  had 
no  arms,  took  up  clubs  and  pieces  of  the  tables  and 
chairs,  while  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Winans,  ran  to  the  Governor's  house,  seized  a  musket, 
and  stood  at  the  doorway  to  defend  his  family.  The 
Indians  took  no  move  forward,  but  were  all  prepared 
for  an  attack,  should  Tecumseh  give  the  word.  They 
stood  quietly  until  numerous  soldiers  ran  up  and  pointed 
their  loaded  muskets  at  them,  and  Harrison  cried  out: 
" Cease  this  demonstration!  Put  down  those  guns!" 
Then,  turning  to  the  interpreter,  he  continued:  "What 
is  the  meaning  of  this?  Ask  yonder  Indian  leader." 

"All  that  you  have  said  is  false,"  cried  Tecumseh. 
"You  and  the  Seventeen  Fires  (States)  have  cheated 
and  imposed  upon  the  Indians." 

"You  are  a  bad  man,"  Harrison  replied  through  the 
interpreter.  "I  will  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  you. 
Since  you  have  come  here  for  a  council,  you  can  go  to 
your  canoes  in  safety,  but  you  must  immediately  leave 
my  village." 

When  the  Indians  heard  this  message,  they  turned 
around  sullenly  and  departed  in  the  direction  of  their 
boats,  while  the  soldiers  kept  their  guns  cocked  until 
they  were  out  of  sight.  It  had  been  an  exciting  episode, 


TECUMSEH:  THE   DIPLOMAT      321 

and  the  citizens  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  as  they  saw  the 
painted  warriors  disappearing  through  the  woods. 
As  night  fell,  Harrison  had  two  companies  of  militia 
brought  into  the  town,  and  ordered  the  men  to  sleep 
on  their  arms,  as  the  Indians  would  undoubtedly  make 
an  attack.  But  none  came,  and  all  were  much  sur 
prised  the  next  day  to  see  a  Shawnee  runner  come  into 
the  streets  of  the  town  with  a  note  from  Tecumseh, 
begging  for  another  interview.  "  Certain  white  men 
have  told  me  to  defy  the  power  of  the  United  States," 
wrote  the  Shawnee,  "and  I  do  not  intend  to  attack 
either  town  or  soldiers."  Pleased  by  this  pacific  mes 
sage,  Harrison  granted  another  interview,  so  the  crafty 
chief  of  the  Shawnees  soon  put  in  an  appearance,  at 
tended  by  the  same  retinue  as  before.  He  was  now 
calm,  and  conducted  himself  with  courtesy  and  con 
sideration. 

After  a  lengthy  conversation,  the  Governor  said: 
"You  know,  great  chief,  that  the  mighty  father  of  the 
white  men  in  Washington  has  decreed  that  these  lands 
which  we  have  purchased  from  the  Miamis  be  surveyed. 
Will  you  oppose  our  surveyors  when  we  send  them 
into  this  country?" 

Tecumseh's  eye  flashed  fire,  as  he  replied,  through  the 
interpreter:  "Nothing  can  shake  the  determination 
of  myself  and  my  followers  to  insist  upon  the  old  bound 
ary  between  your  land  and  ours,  before  you  made  this 
purchase  from  the  Miamis." 

He  sat  down  amidst  a  chorus  of  "Hows!"  from  the 
chiefs  assembled,  and  then  the  leading  sachems  of  the 
Wyandots,  Pottawatomies,  Ottawas  and  Winnebagos 


322         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

arose,  and  each,  in  turn,  said  that  he  entered  in  league 
with  Tecumseh  and  the  Shawnees,  and  would  help  them 
to  repel  any  advance  of  the  whites  beyond  the  Wabash 
River. 

"I  will  make  known  your  decision  to  the  Great 
Father  in  Washington,"  said  Harrison,  "and  I  am  cer 
tain  that  Tecumseh's  claim  to  the  land  will  never  be 
acknowledged,  as  the  land  has  been  bought  by  us  from 
the  original  owners,  the  Miamis,  who  had  a  perfect 
right  to  sell  it."  The  council  now  ended. 

Next  day  the  Governor  visited  Tecumseh  in  his  camp, 
and  was  received  with  great  politeness  by  the  great 
chief,  who  was  very  frank  and  open  in  stating  his  views. 
"The  Seventeen  Fires  (United  States)  will  soon  drown 
all  of  my  people,"  said  he,  with  great  feeling.  "If  your 
great  father  in  Washington  will  agree  to  give  up  the 
lands  which  he  has  bought  from  the  Miamis;  will  agree 
never  to  make  a  treaty  for  land  without  the  consent  of 
all  of  our  allied  tribes,  and  will  consult  with  me  as  the 
spokesman  of  these  tribes ;  I  will  be  your  ally  in  the  war 
which  I  know  will  shortly  take  place  with  England. 
If  you  will  not  do  this,  I  will  join  with  my  white  brothers 
from  Canada,  who  have  sent  me  many  messages  asking 
for  my  assistance  in  warfare  with  your  people." 

"I  will  make  your  views  known  to  the  President," 
said  Harrison,  "but  I  know  that  he  will  not  agree  with 
them." 

"Well,"  replied  Tecumseh,  "as  the  great  chief  is 
to  settle  the  matter,  I  hope  the  Great  Spirit  will  put 
enough  sense  into  his  head  to  cause  him  to  give  up 
the  land.  It  is  true  that  he  is  so  far  off  that  he  will  not 


TECUMSEH:  THE   DIPLOMAT      323 

be  injured  by  the  war.  He  will  sit  still  in  his  own  town 
and  drink  his  wine,  while  you  and  I  will  have  to  fight 
it  out." 

The  Governor  looked  grave.  "You  are  right,"  he 
said.  "We  will  soon  be  fighting  each  other.  A  good 
many  will  be  killed  on  both  sides,  and  there  will  be 
much  suffering.  I  ask  you  to  agree  with  me,  Tecumseh, 
that  there  will  be  no  capturing  of  women  and  children 
by  your  warriors,  and  no  torture  or  ill  treatment  of 
those  men  that  your  warriors  take  as  prisoners." 

Tecumseh  raised  his  hand  aloft.  "I  will  keep  my 
people  from  these  things,"  he  exclaimed.  "Tecumseh 
has  never  ill  treated  his  prisoners,  nor  has  it  ever  been 
done  in  his  presence."  So  saying,  he  sat  down,  and 
Governor  Harrison  returned  to  his  own  troops,  much 
satisfied  with  the  manner  in  which  he  had  been  received. 

As  the  great  chief  had  said,  war  was  soon  to  break  out 
between  the  whites  and  redskins,  and,  seeing  the  prob 
ability  of  this,  Tecumseh  soon  left  upon  a  journey  to 
the  South,  where  he  intended  to  visit  the  Choctaws, 
Creeks,  Seminoles,  and  other  tribes,  and  to  ask  their 
assistance  in  driving  the  white  men  from  their  territory. 
He  had  marvellous  success.  The  Indians  were  in 
fatuated  by  his  persuasive  eloquence  and  promised 
their  allegiance  to  him  and  his  cause.  At  Tuckabatchie, 
Alabama,  he  addressed  the  Creeks  in  a  big  council,  but 
his  remarks  were  not  greeted  with  the  same  cordiality 
as  elsewhere.  The  Indians,  in  fact,  seemed  to  have 
no  interest  in  the  confederation  which  he  begged  them 
to  join,  so  growing  angry,  Tecumseh  stamped  his 
foot  upon  the  ground,  and,  looking  at  the  principal 


324         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Sachem,  called  Big  Warrior,  cried:  "Your  blood  is 
white.  You  do  not  believe  that  the  Great  Spirit  has. 
sent  me.  You  shall  know  that  it  is  so.  I  leave  Tucka- 
batchie  directly,  and  shall  go  straight  to  Detroit.  When 
I  arrive  there  I  will  stamp  on  the  ground  with  my  foot 
and  will  shake  down  every  house  in  Tuckabatchie." 

This  was  certainly  a  wild  threat,  but  the  crafty 
Tecumseh  knew  what  he  was  talking  about,  for  he  had 
heard  from  a  white  astrologer  that  an  earthquake  was 
soon  to  take  place.  The  Creeks  often  talked  over  this 
threat,  after  the  departure  of  the  great  Shawnee,  and 
carefully  reckoned  upon  the  number  of  days  that  it 
would  take  him  to  get  to  Detroit.  In  course  of  time 
they  estimated  that  he  had  arrived  there,  and,  as  they 
anxiously  awaited  the  fulfillment  of  the  threat,  a  terrible 
rumbling  was  heard,  the  earth  rocked  to  and  fro,  the 
tepees  and  lodges  trembled  and  shook,  and  suddenly 
many  of  them  toppled  over.  Terrified  and  alarmed, 
the  Creeks  rushed  wildly  about,  crying:  " Tecumseh 
has  arrived  at  Detroit.  His  threat  has  come  true.  We 
must  join  with  him  in  his  confederation  or  all  will  be 
lost."  This  was  the  historical  earthquake  of  New  Madrid 
or  the  Mississippi,  which  (according  to  tradition)  took 
place  upon  the  very  day  that  Tecumseh  reached  De 
troit.  It  secured  for  him  a  great  and  lasting  reputation 
among  the  red  men. 

Shortly  after  this  the  Indians  at  Prophet's  Town  be 
came  very  warlike  and  aggressive,  so  much  so  that  Gov 
ernor  Harrison  determined  to  send  an  armed  force  against 
them.  Tecumseh  was  away,  but  his  brother,  Elsk- 
wata-wa  (the  Prophet),  was  a  pretty  good  warrior,  and 


TECUMSEH:   THE  DIPLOMAT       325 

was  burning  in  hatred  of  the  whites.  He  inspired  his 
followers  with  many  good  thoughts;  taught  them  to 
give  up  firewater  (whiskey)  and  also  to  till  the  soil. 
But  he  also  preached  to  them  that  they  must  kill  off 
the  whites  if  they  could,  and  so  stem  their  advance  into 
the  land  once  held  by  the  redskins.  On  September 
26,  1811,  at  the  head  of  nine  hundred  troops,  Harrison 
moved  towards  the  encampment  of  these  hostiles,  and, 
after  marching  for  six  days,  camped  on  the  eastern  shore 
of  the  Wabash  River,  two  miles  above  the  present  city 
of  Terre  Haute.  A  log  fortress  of  felled  trees  was  here 
constructed,  called  Fort  Harrison,  and  leaving  a  small 
guard  here,  the  main  army  advanced  along  the  Wabash 
River  until  it  reached  a  broad  stream,  called  the  Ver- 
million.  A  blockhouse  was  erected  to  protect  the 
boats  and  heavy  baggage,  and  then  the  white  troops 
pressed  forward  to  a  position  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
away  from  the  Indian  encampment  at  Prophet's  Town. 
Harrison  had  moved  warily  and  cautiously,  with  scouts 
out  upon  either  side  to  warn  him  of  ambuscades.  The 
two  fortifications  in  his  rear  were  excellent  protection 
should  he  be  forced  to  retreat,  while  his  soldiers  and 
frontiersmen  were  well  used  to  border  warfare,  and  showed 
no  such  careless  advancing  as  had  the  men  under  St. 
Clair. 

Seven  miles  northeast  of  the  present  city  of  Lafayette, 
Indiana,  the  army  camped  upon  a  beautifully  level 
stretch  of  ground,  upon  which  was  a  belt  of  timber. 
In  front  lay  a  marshy  prairie,  stretching  away  to 
Prophet's  Town,  while  on  the  right  was  another  marshy 
strip,  through  which  ran  a  small  stream  surrounded 


326         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

by  willows  and  brushwood.  It  was  a  good  position; 
higher  than  the  surrounding  country,  dryer,  and  more 
healthful.  Before  the  army  had  reached  this  place, 
the  Governor  had  sent  messengers  to  the  Prophet, 
demanding  that  the  various  tribes  which  he  had  with 
him  should  return  to  their  respective  territories;  that 
all  stolen  horses  in  their  possession  should  be  given  up; 
and  that  all  Indians  who  had  murdered  white  settlers 
should  be  delivered  over  to  justice.  But  these  mes 
sengers  (all  friendly  Indians)  had  nearly  all  been  insulted 
and  dismissed  with  contemptuous  remarks  about  them 
selves  and  the  Governor.  Harrison  was,  therefore, 
eager  to  fall  upon  the  red  men  and  give  them  a  sound 
thrashing — such  a  thrashing  that  they  would  not  soon 
forget. 

The  soldiers  reached  this  position  about  midday,  and 
soon  ambassadors  came  in  from  Prophet's  Town  with 
a  request  that  they  refrain  from  battle  until  the  following 
day,  when  a  peace  talk  could  be  had.  Harrison  con 
sented  to  this,  but  was  too  wary  to  be  caught  napping, 
and  made  his  men  sleep  in  order  of  battle,  with  their 
muskets  loaded  beside  them.  The  night  was  dark  and 
rainy.  Sentries  were,  therefore,  carefully  stationed  up 
on  every  side  of  the  American  camp,  and  these  were  told 
to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  any  approaching  savage. 
As  it  was  the  sixth  of  November  the  air  was  crisp  and 
chill,  while  the  brown  leaves  of  autumn  littered  the 
ground  with  a  thick  covering,  which  made  it  difficult 
for  a  foe  to  approach  unobserved.  Every  officer  and 
private  was  told  exactly  what  to  do,  in  case  of  an  at 
tack,  and  thus  the  little  army  of  invasion  rested,  like  a 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      327 

bulldog  upon  the  leash,  ready  and  prepared  to  make  a 
spring. 

A  sentinel,  well  in  advance  of  the  American  line,  was 
looking  intently  across  the  wide  sweep  of  prairie  in  the 
direction  of  Prophet's  Town — shrouded  in  the  murk  of 
the  early  morning  mist — when  he  saw  something  moving 
in  the  yellow  grass.  The  blades  bent  to  the  right  and 
left  as  if  some  animal  were  creeping  through  them,  so 
the  watchman  became  alarmed.  Seizing  his  musket,  he 
stooped  down  to  peer  through  the  reedy  waste,  and,  as 
he  did  so,  a  tomahawk,  hurled  by  an  unseen  hand, 
spun  through  the  air  and  just  missed  his  head.  In  a 
second,  his  gun  was  at  his  shoulder,  and  he  fired  at  a  dark 
object  which  he  saw  in  the  reeds  before  him.  A  wild 
warwhoop  shrilled  through  the  stillness,  as  he  did  so, 
and  from  all  about,  in  the  tall  grass,  the  painted  forms 
of  red  men  leaped  from  their  hiding  places  and  rushed 
towards  the  sleeping  camp.  But  they  met  a  different 
reception  than  that  which  they  had  anticipated.  The 
men  who  had  been  resting  on  their  arms  had,  in  a  mo 
ment,  seized  their  muskets,  had  formed  in  a  line  facing 
the  enemy,  and  met  the  onrush  of  the  savages  with 
a  volley  of  lead. 

The  attacking  force  consisted  of  between  five  and 
eight  hundred  warriors  under  White  Loon,  Stone  Eater, 
and  Winnemac.  The  Prophet  had  mixed  a  mysterious 
broth  at  a  meeting  of  the  Indians  the  night  before,  and 
had  told  his  followers  that  one-half  of  Harrison's  army 
was  composed  of  dead  men,  and  that  the  other  half  was 
made  up  of  crazy  soldiers.  Encouraged  by  this,  the 
Indians  had  begun  to  creep  across  the  prairie  in  the 


328         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

direction  of  the  American  camp  at  four  in  the  morning. 
The  Prophet  had  also  stated  that  the  bullets  of  the 
Americans  would  rebound  from  the  bodies  of  the  red 
men,  but  this  did  not  prove  to  be  the  case,  for,  as  the 
mixed  bands  of  warriors  came  onward,  they  were  shot 
down  by  scores.  Still,  they  attacked  with  terrible  futy, 
and,  armed  with  excellent  short  rifles  which  had  been 
furnished  them  by  the  Indian  traders,  they  did  a  great 
deal  of  damage  to  the  American  line.  Soon  the  entire 
camp  was  surrounded  by  the  redskins,  who  rushed 
forward  with  tremendous  ferocity,  and,  where  the 
soldiers  formed  hollow  squares  with  their  bayonets 
outward,  the  braves  would  throw  themselves  vindic 
tively  upon  them  and  endeavor  to  knock  them  over 
with  their  tomahawks. 

The  only  coward  on  the  side  of  the  Indians  was 
the  famous  Prophet.  While  his  followers  were  struggling 
desperately  with  the  frontiersmen,  he  stood  upon  a  small 
hill,  well  out  of  harm's  way,  and  cried  out  encourage 
ment  to  the  Indians  in  a  shrill  and  piercing  voice. 
" Fight  on,  0  my  people,"  he  kept  repeating,  "for  it 
shall  be  as  the  Prophet  has  said.  You  will  crush  these 
white  enemies."  The  sounds  of  his  wailing  could  easily 
be  heard  by  Harrison's  men,  and,  although  some  of  his 
warriors  requested  him  to  join  them  in  battle,  he  did 
not  seem  as  anxious  to  appear  on  the  firing  line  as  they 
had  expected*  His  followers,  on  the  other  hand,  fought 
most  courageously,  and  threw  themselves  with  despera 
tion  upon  the  unyielding  American  line.  Harrison 
rode  up  and  down  among  his  men,  cheering  them  on,  and 
crying  to  them  not  to  give  in  to  the  assaults  of  the  red- 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      329 

skins,  and,  although  he  usually  mounted  a  white  horse, 
in  the  confusion  of  the  morning,  he  had  seized  one  of 
another  color.  This  probably  saved  his  life,  as  the 
Indians  knew  that  his  usual  mount  was  white  and  soon 
killed  his  own  animal  which  a  young  lieutenant  was 
riding.  The  rider  also  fell,  pierced  by  a  dozen  well- 
directed  bullets. 

While  the  yells  of  the  Indians  were  intermingled  with 
the  hoarse  shouts  of  the  rangers,  the  rattle  of  deer's 
hoofs  was  heard  above  the  din,  and,  at  this  savage 
signal,  the  redskins  retreated  beyond  rifle  range.  But 
they  were  not  yet  defeated,  and  soon  formed  for  another 
onslaught,  while  the  white  soldiers  re-arranged  their 
own  line,  fixed  bayonets,  and  reloaded,  in  anticipation 
of  a  second  charge.  "Give  the  redskins  a  dose  of  lead, 
first,"  commanded  Harrison,  "then  at  'em  with  the 
bayonets.  But  keep  in  touch  all  along  the  line,  and 
do  not  allow  yourselves  to  get  split  up  into  small  parties, 
which  the  red  devils  can  surround!"  His  counsel  was 
well  heeded. 

In  a  few  moments  the  followers  of  the  Prophet  again 
rushed  from  the  underbrush  upon  the  extended  line  of 
the  American  rangers,  and,  although  the  savages  had 
now  departed  from  their  usual  custom  of  fighting  behind 
cover,  this  was  to  do  them  no  good.  As  they  ran 
desperately  against  the  now  well-prepared  men  in  buck 
skin,  they  were  met  with  a  murderous  fire,  for  day  was 
well  advanced,  and  the  white  soldiers  could  see  their 
gun  sights.  The  roar  from  the  rifles  was  continuous. 
The  redskins  fell  to  earth  upon  every  side.  Shrieks 
and  groans  of  the  wounded  and  dying  men  were  inter- 


330         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

mingled  with  the  coarse  shouts  of  battle,  as  the  forms 
of  Indians  and  whites  struggled  and  fell,  locked  in  a 
deadly  embrace  beneath  a  cloud  of  drifting  smoke,  which 
hung  above  the  battle  ground. 

But  now  the  moment  came  for  an  advance  of  the 
buckskin-clad  rangers.  As  at  Waterloo  when  Welling 
ton  cried:  "Up  guards  and  at  'em!"  Harrison  called: 
"On,  men!  Give  them  the  bayonet,  and  no  quarter!" 
With  a  wild  yell  of  enthusiasm  the  rangers  started 
forward  and  ploughed  into  the  masses  of  the  redskins 
with  a  will.  With  sharp  bayonet  thrusts  they  cut  down 
all  who  opposed  them,  for  they  struck  out  savagely, 
and  hacked  away  like  Cromwell's  Ironsides.  Nothing 
could  stand  up  against  such  an  onrush.  The  Indians 
wilted.  They  gave  in.  They  turned.  They  ran.  And 
the  first  to  skip  headlong  across  the  yellow  prairie  was 
the  far-famed  Prophet,  whose  courage  had  oozed  from 
him  like  water  through  a  sieve.  His  prophecies  had 
all  gone  wrong;  his  incantations  had  been  worthless, 
and  his  influence  among  the  red  men  had  forever 
parted. 

Harrison  now  pressed  on  to  Prophet's  Town,  and 
found  it  absolutely  deserted,  for  the  Indians  had  de 
cided  to  abandon  everything,  and  had  left  behind  their 
corn,  chickens,  hogs,  household  furniture,  and  firearms. 
As  the  rangers  swept  onward,  thirty-seven  of  their  own 
numbers  lay  dead  upon  the  famous  field  of  Tippecanoe, 
while  one  hundred  and  thirty-seven  wounded  limped 
to  the  carts  in  their  rear.  The  redskin  loss  was  never 
known,  but  it  must  have  been  much  larger  than  that  of 
the  whites.  Flushed  with  victory,  the  Americans  soon 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      331 

destroyed  the  Indian  village,  and  then  returned  to 
Vincennes,  well  satisfied  with  such  a  complete  victory. 
Harrison,  himself,  had  won  the  admiration  of  his  coun 
trymen;  so  much  so,  that  thirty  years  later  he  was 
elected  President  of  the  United  States,  mainly  because 
of  the  fame  which  he  won  in  this  frontier  battle.  The 
campaign  slogan  of  "Tippecanoe  (as  Harrison  was 
called)  and  Tyler,  too,"  swept  over  the  country  like 
fire,  and  roused  an  enthusiasm  for  the  brave  leader 
which  has  seldom  been  equalled.  It  resulted  in  his 
election  to  the  position  of  Chief  Executive  by  a  mag 
nificent  majority. 

Tecumseh  had  been  away  at  the  time  of  the  battle, 
and,  when  he  heard  of  the  defeat  of  his  own  people,  he 
was  furious  with  rage.  Hastening  to  Prophet's  Town, 
he  found  only  ashes  and  desolation  where  once  had  been 
stores,  ammunition,  arms,  and  houses.  Filled  with  morti 
fication  and  anger,  he  searched  for  his  brother,  the 
Prophet,  and  when  he  found  him,  shook  him  by  the  hair, 
so  great  was  his  resentment ;  for  he  had  told  the  Indians 
to  fight  no  battle  during  his  absence.  The  Prophet 
was  ever  afterwards  an  object  of  contempt,  and,  as  he 
would  walk  through  the  Indian  village,  the  boys  would 
yell  and  jeer  at  him,  while  the  braves  would  turn  their 
backs  when  they  saw  him  coming. 

Tecumseh  wrote  to  General  Harrison  that  he  now 
desired  to  go  to  Washington  and  visit  the  Great  Father, 
a  request  that  was  granted  him.  But  he  was  told  that 
he  must  go  alone,  and  without  a  retinue;  an  answer 
which  wounded  the  spirit  of  the  proud  savage  so  deeply 
that,  when  war  broke  out  between  the  British  and 


332         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Americans  a  few  years  later  (the  War  of  1812),  he  joined 
the  English  army  in  Canada,  saying:  "I  have  taken 
sides  with  my  father,  the  King,  and  I  will  suffer  my 
bones  to  bleach  upon  the  shore  of  the  great  lakes,  before 
I  will  recross  the  American  territory  to  take  part  in  any 
council  of  neutrality." 

In  the  fighting  of  the  War  of  1812  this  great  chief 
showed  that  he  could  lead  an  army  almost  as  well  as  a 
white  man.  His  military  talent  was  so  great  that  he 
was  made  a  Brigadier  General,  a  position  which,  to 
my  knowledge,  no  other  American  Indian  has  ever 
held  among  white  troops,  except  General  Ely  S.  Parker, 
who  commanded  a  detachment  of  regulars  in  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  during  the  War  of  the  Rebellion.  The 
celebrated  Shawnee  fought  bravely  at  a  fierce  fight  at 
Brownstown,  and  was  also  at  the  siege  of  Detroit,  with 
about  seven  hundred  warriors,  when  this  city  capitu 
lated  to  the  British.  The  whole  American  frontier  was 
open  to  the  ravages  of  the  Indians  and  English  after 
this  event,  and  under  General  Proctor,  the  combined 
forces  of  redskins  and  redcoats  swept  down  upon  the 
border  fortress  of  Fort  Meigs,  and  here  captured  a 
number  of  prisoners,  although  they  did  not  take  the 
stockade. 

The  Indians  under  Tecumseh  numbered  about 
eighteen  hundred  in  the  fighting  at  this  place,  and, 
giving  way  to  their  instincts,  they  tomahawked  all  that 
they  could.  General  Proctor  made  no  attempt  to  stop 
them,  but  was  looking  calmly  at  their  fiendish  work, 
when  he  saw  Tecumseh  galloping  forward  at  great  speed. 
Reaching  the  scene  of  slaughter,  the  savage  leaped  from 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      333 

his  horse,  and  seizing  two  Indians  by  the  throat, 
knocked  them  to  the  ground.  Then,  drawing  his  toma 
hawk  and  scalping  knife,  he  cried  out:  "He  of  you  who 
injures  another  prisoner  will  be  killed  by  Tecumseh. 
How  dare  you  wreak  vengeance  upon  defenseless  men? 
Cowards!  Begone!"  Cowed  by  his  consuming  wrath, 
the  savages  slunk  away,  while  the  great  chief,  turning  to 
Proctor,  said:  "Why,  General,  did  you  not  stop  this 
awful  massacre?" 

"Sir,"  replied  the  British  General,  "your  Indians 
cannot  be  restrained." 

"Begone!"  thundered  Tecumseh.  "You  are  not  fit 
to  command!  Go  home  and  put  on  the  petticoat  of  a 
squaw." 

Shortly  after  this  the  celebrated  Shawnee  noticed  a 
small  group  of  Indians  near  by,  who  were  standing 
about  some  prisoners.  "Yonder  are  four  of  your 
people  who  have  been  taken  prisoners,"  said  Colonel 
Elliot  to  him.  "  You  may  do  as  you  please  with  them." 
Tecumseh,  therefore,  walked  over  to  the  group  and  found 
four  Shawnees,  who,  while  fighting  on  the  side  of  the 
Americans,  had  been  unable  to  escape  the  British 
regulars,  and  had  been  captured.  "Friends,"  said  he, 
"Colonel  Elliot  has  placed  you  in  my  charge,  and  I 
will  send  you  back  to  your  nation  to  have  a  talk  with 
your  people."  So  saying,  he  took  them  with  him  for 
some  distance,  and  then  sent  two  of  his  warriors  to  ac 
company  them  to  their  own  chiefs,  where  they  were 
discharged,  under  the  promise  that  they  would  never 
fight  again  against  the  British  during  the  war. 

The  disasters  to  the  Americans  led  the  Government 


334        FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

to  collect  a  larger  army,  which  was  placed  under  the 
command  of  General  Harrison,  the  hero  of  Tippecanoe. 
Captain  Oliver  H.  Perry  built  a  fleet  on  Lake  Erie, 
sailed  out  to  attack  the  British  boats,  and  defeated  them. 
When  he  had  done  so,  Harrison  moved  upon  Fort 
Maiden,  where  both  Proctor  and  Tecumseh  were  sta 
tioned.  The  former  burned  the  fort  and  retreated  with 
Tecumseh's  Indians,  meaning  to  join  the  other  British 
forces  at  Niagara,  but  before  the  retreat  (when  Harrison 
was  at  Fort  Meigs)  Tecumseh  had  sent  him  a  personal 
challenge,  which  ran: 

"  GENERAL  HARRISON:  I  have  with  me  eight  hundred 
braves.  You  have  an  equal  number  in  your  hiding 
place.  Come  out  with  them  and  give  me  battle.  You 
talked  like  a  brave  when  we  met  at  Vincennes,  and  I 
respected  you,  but  now  you  hide  behind  logs,  and  in 
earth,  like  a  groundhog.  Give  me  answer! 

TECUMSEH." 

Harrison,  however,  refused  to  come  out,  and,  as 
Proctor  decided  to  retreat,  Tecumseh  seriously  medi 
tated  a  withdrawal  from  the  contest.  "You  always 
told  us  that  you  would  never  draw  your  foot  off  British 
ground/'  said  he  to  the  English  commander.  "Now, 
father,  we  see  that  you  are  drawing  back,  and  we  are 
sorry  to  see  our  father  doing  so  without  seeing  the 
enemy.  We  must  compare  our  Father's  conduct  to  a 
fat  dog  which  carries  its  tail  on  its  back,  but,  when 
affrighted,  drops  it  between  its  legs  and  runs  off.  Father, 
listen!  The  Americans  have  not  yet  defeated  us  by 
land,  neither  are  we  sure  that  they  have  done  so  by 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      335 

water;  we,  therefore,  wish  to  remain  here  and  fight 
our  enemy,  should  he  make  his  appearance.  If  we  are 
defeated,  we  will  then  retreat  with  our  father. 

"  Father,  you  have  got  the  arms  and  ammunition 
which  our  great  father  sent  to  his  red  children.  If  you 
have  an  idea  of  going  away,  give  them  to  us  and  you 
may  go,  and  welcome.  For  us,  our  lives  are  in  the  hand 
of  the  Great  Spirit.  We  are  determined  to  defend  our 
land,  and  if  it  be  his  will,  we  wish  to  leave  our  bones 
upon  them." 

But  Proctor  would  listen  to  no  such  talk,  and 
pretended,  from  time  to  time,  that  he  would  halt  and 
give  battle.  Much  to  the  chagrin  of  the  redskins, 
he  kept  on  moving.  Finally  he  halted  on  the  river 
Thames,  in  Michigan,  near  a  Moravian  town,  and  told 
Tecumseh  that  he  would  here  fight  it  out  with  the 
advancing  Americans.  The  great  chief,  himself,  chose 
the  ground  for  battling,  with  a  marsh  on  one  flank 
and  a  stream  upon  the  other.  "  Brother  warriors," 
said  he  to  his  chiefs,  "we  are  about  to  enter  an  en 
gagement  from  which  I  shall,  doubtless,  never  return; 
my  body  will  remain  upon  the  field  of  battle."  Then 
unbuckling  his  sword,  he  handed  it  to  a  chief,  remarking: 
"When  my  son  becomes  a  noted  warrior,  and  able  to 
wield  a  sword,  give  this  to  him." 

Proctor  had  planted  his  guns  in  the  highway  and 
had  deployed  his  regulars  between  them  and  a  little 
marsh.  Another  marsh  was  five  hundred  yards  further 
on,  to  the  right,  and  here  the  Indians  under  Tecumseh 
were  stationed,  together  with  some  British  regulars. 
The  rest  of  the  Indians  were  sent  out  in  front,  upon  the 


336         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

extreme  right,  in  a  position  just  in  front  of  the  swampy 
bottom  of  the  larger  marsh.  The  ground  was  nearly 
covered  with  an  open  growth  of  trees,  without  under 
brush,  so  that  there  was  little  impediment  to  fighting. 
Harrison,  as  he  came  up,  placed  his  mounted  infantry  in 
front,,  for  this  was  his  strongest  force,  composed  of  a 
splendid  body  of  Kentucky  frontiersmen  under  Colonel 
Richard  M.  Johnson,  all  of  whom  were  well  used  to 
border  warfare.  The  infantry  was  in  the  rear,  with  a 
considerable  body  on  the  left  flank,  turned  at  right  angle 
to  the  line,  so  as  to  face  the  Indians  in  the  marsh.  They 
were  told  to  advance  at  the  blast  of  the  bugle  and  to 
fight  as  they  had  done  at  Tippecanoe — commands 
which  they  obeyed  quite  faithfully.  At  the  shrill  note 
of  the  horn  the  horsemen  trotted  forward.  Then,  as 
the  British  regulars  began  to  pepper  them  with  bullets, 
they  gave  a  wild  cheer,  galloped  on,  and  soon  were 
charging  right  into  the  lines  of  the  English. 

Proctor  knew  that  he  was  badly  wanted  by  the 
Americans,  because  of  his  numerous  massacres  of 
defenseless  non-combatants,  and  so  leaped  into  a  two- 
horse  vehicle  in  order  to  escape.  But  a  dozen  well- 
mounted  men  galloped  after  him,  and  seeing  that  he 
was  about  to  be  captured,  the  faint-hearted  Britisher 
jumped  to  the  earth,  took  to  the  woods,  and  got  safety 
off.  Tecumseh's  men,  meanwhile,  stood  their  ground 
and  did  not,  at  first,  give  way  before  the  American 
advance.  But  soon  the  savages  posted  upon  the  ex 
treme  right  before  the  marsh  ran  wildly  into  the  woods. 
The  valiant  Tecumseh  was  shot  in  the  arm,  but,  disdain 
ing  to  fly,  stood  up  manfully,  while  his  wild,  inspiring 


TECUMSEH:  THE  DIPLOMAT      337 

war  whoop  was  loudly  heard  above  the  din  of  battle. 
Thus  he  was  holding  his  own  men  to  their  work,  when 
the  Kentucky  cavalry,  having  dispersed  Proctor's  regu 
lars,  returned  to  the  field  of  battle.  Forming  for  the 
attack,  they  rushed,  with  a  wild  cheer,  upon  the  mixed 
battalion  of  reds  and  whites.  Johnson,  himself,  was 
soon  near  the  great  chief  and  shot  at  him  with  his  pistol. 
Tecumseh  fell,  whether  from  this  shot,  or  not,  is  not 
definitely  known.  The  tide  of  conflict  rolled  by  the 
prostrate  form  of  the  mighty  Shawnee,  and,  with 
fierce  cheers  of  victory,  the  Americans  chased  the  now 
routed  British  and  Indians  into  the  forest,  securing  a 
complete  and  overwhelming  victory. 

Near  the  battlefield,  where  a  large  oak  lay  prostrate 
by  a  willow  marsh,  the  faithful  Shawnees  buried  Te 
cumseh,  after  the  American  army,  flushed  with  success, 
returned  to  the  United  States.  -The  British  Govern 
ment  granted  a  pension  to  the  widow  of  the  noted 
warrior,  and  to  his  son  gave  a  sword.  The  willows  and 
rose-bushes  now  grow  thick  above  the  mound  where 
repose,  in  silence  and  solitude,  the  ashes  of  the  mighty 
chief  of  the  Shawnees.  He  struggled  in  vain  against 
the  inevitable,  and  his  simple  grave  is  only  one  of  the 
many  monuments  which  mark  the  restless,  overwhelm 
ing  advance  of  the  conquering  Americans.  He  fought 
a  good  fight.  His  fame  is  secure  upon  the  golden  pages 
of  history. 


WEATHERFORD:    THE  CREEK  CONSPI 
RATOR  AND  FEARLESS  FIGHTER 

AIONG  the  tribes  who  swore  allegiance  to  Tecum- 
seh,  none  were  more  powerful  than  the  Creeks, 
who  occupied  a  vast  stretch  of  country  in  the 
present  states  of  Alabama  and  Tennessee.  These  In 
dians  continued  their  warfare  against  the  whites,  long 
after  the  death  of  the  famous  leader  of  the  Shawnees, 
and,  under  the  guidance  of  Weatherford,  did  great  dam 
age  to  the  white  pioneers  of  this  part  of  the  country. 
Weatherford  was  an  extremely  handsome  savage  of 
fine  face  and  figure.  He  was  possessed  of  great  physical 
strength  and  dauntless  courage,  but  he  was  treacherous 
and  merciless  to  those  who  fell  into  his  clutches,  and 
was  never  known  to  give  quarter  to  a  fallen  enemy. 
For  this  reason  he  was  hated  and  despised  by  the  back 
woodsmen  and  pioneers  of  the  Mississippi  Territory. 

The  Creeks  began  their  depredations  upon  the  frontier 
at  the  same  time  that  Tecumseh's  warriors  were  fighting 
against  Harrison,  and  soon  the  whites  of  the  southern 
country  were  forced  to  fly  to  the  forts  and  stockades 
for  protection.  The  Southwestern  militia  was  called 
out  to  repel  the  attacks  of  the  savages,  and,  under 
Governor  Claiborne,  about  two  hundred  volunteers 
took  station  in  a  strong  stockade  called  Fort  Mimms, 
situated  on  Lake  Tensas,  Alabama,  and  crowded  with 

338 


WEATHERFORD:  FIGHTER        339 

refugees.  A  Major  Beasley  was  placed  in  charge  of 
these  soldiers,  while  Claiborne  left  for  the  interior  of 
the  state  in  order  to  raise  more  troops.  "  Respect  your 
enemy,  and  be  always  ready  to  meet  him,"  said  he  to 
Major  Beasley,  when  he  was  about  to  depart.  "The 
Indians  are  crafty,  and  one  never  knows  when  they 
are  to  debouch  from  the  dark  recesses  of  the  forest. 
Be  continually  upon  your  guard,  and  do  not  fail  to  have 
sentries  at  all  times  upon  watch." 

"I  promise  you  that  I  will  use  every  caution  against 
attack,"  Beasley  replied.  "Do  not  fear,  it  will  be  im 
possible  for  the  Indians  to  enter  our  stockade." 

"Very  good,"  the  Governor  answered,  as  he  turned 
to  go.  "I  will  be  at  Fort  Early,  the  next  stockade, 
when  the  Indians  advance,  be  sure  and  dispatch  a 
runner  to  me  so  that  I  can  send  you  reinforcements,  if 
attacked."  So  saying,  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  soon 
had  mounted  his  horse. 

Not  many  days  later,  a  negro,  who  had  been  sent  to  a 
planter's  house  for  a  supply  of  corn,  came  running  into 
Fort  Mimms  in  great  agitation.  "  De  Injuns  am  comin'," 
he  wailed.  "De  red.  men  done  took  a  feller  dat  was  wid 
me  an'  kill  him.  0  Lawzy,  Lawzy.  I'se  been  runnin' 
lak  er  rabbit!" 

But  Major  Beasley  scoffed  at  the  news.  "I  don't  be 
lieve  you,  Sambo,"  said  he.  "For  several  of  my  own 
men  have  been  out  scouting  and  have  reported  no  sign 
of  Indians." 

A  few  days  after  this,  three  negroes,  while  looking  for 
cattle  which  had  strayed  from  the  fort,  suddenly  ran 
upon  a  large  body  of  savages  in  the  woods.  Hastily 


340         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

returning  to  the  stockade,  they  reported  the  matter, 
with  much  fear  and  trembling.  "  I  will  send  out  scouts 
at  once/'  said  the  commandant  of  the  fort,  "and  will 
see  if  these  reports  are  true."  So  a  dozen  rangers  were 
immediately  dispatched  into  the  forest  to  discover 
signs  of  the  Indians.  They  remained  away  for  a  day, 
and,  upon  their  return,  stated  that  they  had  seen  no 
trace  of  the  Creeks,  and  that  they  believed  that  the 
negro  had  told  an  untruth.  Consequently  he  was 
flogged — an  act  of  injustice  which  was  to  injure  the 
white  refugees  in  Fort  Mimms  more  than  they  expected, 
or  imagined. 

Upon  the  following  Monday  this  same  negro  was 
driving  some  cattle  to  pasture,  when  he  saw  several 
Indians  in  a  cleared  space,  who  were  watching  him 
carefully,  as  if  it  was  their  intention  to  capture  him 
when  he  advanced  near  their  position.  Consequently 
he  ran  back  to  Fort  Mimms  in  a  great  state  of  agitation, 
leaving  his  cattle  to  the  tomahawks  of  the  red  men. 
But  he  did  not  report  the  near  approach  of  the  Indians, 
as  he  feared  another  thrashing,  and  so,  when  the  shrill 
warwhoops  of  the  savages  soon  echoed  from  the  forest, 
the  inhabitants  of  the  stockade  were  totally  unprepared 
to  meet  the  assault  of  the  red  men.  To  the  number 
of  fifteen  hundred  they  suddenly  debouched  from  the 
fringe  of  forest  near  the  fort,  and  made  a  dash  for  the 
palisade.  Weather  ford  was  in  command,  and,  from  a 
position  slightly  in  the  rear  of  the  line,  directed  the 
operations  of  his  men. 

It  was  a  hot  day  in  August.  The  guard  before  the 
doorway  of  the  fort  had  been  relaxed,  and  the  soldiers 


WEATHERFORD:   FIGHTER        341 

lolled  indolently  in  the  shade  of  some  trees.  The  heavy 
gates  were  wide  open.  The  garrison  was  scattered  about 
the  enclosure,  little  expecting  an  onslaught  from  with 
out,  while  several  small  children  were  picking  wild 
flowers  near  the  edge  of  the  forest..  Major  Beasley, 
himself,  was  occupied  in  one  of  the  buildings,  when 
loud  yells  and  rifle  shots  warned  him  of  an  Indian  at 
tack.  Rushing  into  the  open,  he  saw,  to  his  dismay, 
that  the  Creeks  had  entered  the  stockade  through  the 
gates  which  had  been  negligently  standing  ajar,  and, 
although  several  men  in  buckskin  had  endeavored  to 
close  them,  the  onrush  of  the  Indians  swept  all  before 
them.  In  a  moment  the  frontiersmen  and  savages  were 
engaged  in  a  desperate  struggle.  The  whites,  realizing 
that  it  was  a  death  grapple,  vainly  strove  to  keep  the 
followers  of  Weatherford  from  penetrating  the  stockade, 
and,  although  there  were  nearly  three  hundred  men 
opposed  to  the  redskins,  it  was  soon  evident  that  they 
could  scarcely  hold  their  own  against  the  furious  attack 
of  the  Creek  warriors.  Every  officer  of  the  American 
troops  was  killed  in  his  tracks.  Yet  the  remaining 
frontier  fighters  were  unable  to  drive  the  Indians  from 
the  entrance,  and,  in  spite  of  their  well-aimed  rifle 
shots,  the  savages  gradually  won  their  way  into  the 
stockade.  A  Lieutenant,  badly  wounded,  was  carried 
into  a  blockhouse  by  two  of  the  women,  but  he  insisted 
upon  being  taken  back  into  the  fight,  and  was  soon  again 
in  the  thick  of  the  melee,  where  he  was  shot  through 
the  body  by  an  arrow  and  killed. 

It  was  now  about  eleven  o'clock.     So  many  of  the 
whites  had  been  killed  that  the  rest  had  to  seek  safety 


342          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

in  one  of  the  blockhouses,  where,  with  both  doors  and 
windows  barricaded,  they  endeavored  to  make  a  last 
resistance  to  the  yelping  Creeks.  The  women  and  chil 
dren  were  first  huddled  in  the  centre  of  the  building,  but 
soon  some  of  the  women  took  up  muskets  and  aided 
the  soldiers  in  the  defense  of  this  last  resort.  The 
fighting  was  most  furious  at  this  moment,  and,  with  a 
heavy  bar,  the  Creeks  endeavored  to  break  down  the 
doorway.  Some  others  rolled  lighted  faggots  against 
the  sides  of  the  building,  and,  taking  fire,  the  miserable 
whites  were  burned  to  cinders.  Seventeen  members  of 
the  garrison  broke  through  the  line  of  yelping  Indians 
and  escaped,  while  Major  Beasley,  himself,  was  con 
sumed  by  the  burning  embers.  When  night  fell,  all  was 
ruin  and  desolation,  where  once  had  stood  the  strong 
and  presumably  unpenetrable  fortress  of  the  frontier, 
while  the  shrill  wailing  of  the  Indian  women  sounded 
loud  above  the  crackling  of  the  burning  stockade  which 
Weatherford  ordered  to  be  set  on  fire. 

When  the  news  of  this  frightful  massacre  at  Fort 
Mimms  reached  the  interior,  the  white  settlers  were 
roused  to  indescribable  wrath  against  the  Creek  warriors. 
Steps  were  immediately  taken  to  guard  against  a  further 
advance  of  the  Indians,  and  the  sum  of  $300,000  was 
donated  by  the  state  of  Tennessee  for  raising  and  equip 
ping  a  number  of  troops  to  repel  the  invaders  and,  if 
possible,  to  cripple  their  operations.  Five  thousand 
rangers  were  soon  collected  on  the  frontier,  and  their 
leadership  given  to  a  then  undistinguished  soldier, 
called  Andrew  Jackson,  who  was  later  to  become  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States,  because  of  the  very  qualities 


WEATHERFORD:   FIGHTER        343 

of  dauntless  courage  which  he  was  to  exhibit  in  the  trying 
Indian  campaign  before  him.  He  had  not  yet  fully 
recovered  from  a  severe  wound  received  in  a  duel  with 
pistols,  but,  although  badly  crippled,  he  had  sufficient 
strength  to  give  personal  attention  to  the  drill '  arid 
discipline  of  the  splendid  body  of  Indian  fighters  under 
his  command.  Colonel  Coffee,  Davy  Crockett,  and  Sam 
Houston,  all  famous  frontiersmen,  were  among  his 
soldiers,  and,  although  thoroughly  untrained  in  the 
European  method  of  warfare,  they  were  well  able  to 
handle  a  body  of  Indians  of  twice  their  strength. 

After  the  massacre  at  Fort  Mimms,  Weatherford 
had  dropped  back  into  his  own  territory,  where  his 
followers  had  towns  and  resources.  Some  Georgian 
troops,  under  Colonel  Coffee,  marched  against  him,  but, 
learning  that  Jackson  was  coming  up,  waited  for  him  at 
Ditto's  Landing,  on  the  Tennessee.  Here  many  of  the 
white  troops  rebelled,  as  there  was  not  a  sufficiency 
of  food,  but,  brought  to  terms  by  the  conduct  and 
oratory  of  the  indomitable  Jackson,  they  consented  to  a 
further  advance  into  the  territory  held  by  the  warlike 
Creeks. 

Learning  of  the  advance  of  this  formidable  body  of 
rangers,  many  of  the  Creeks,  including  Chief  Chinna- 
boy,  gave  themselves  up  to  the  whites  and  swore  al 
legiance  to  them.  An  Indian  runner  hastened  to  Weath 
erford,  urging  him  to  capitulate  without  a  struggle,  but 
to  this  the  chief  replied: 

"  I  will  never  give  in  as  long  as  I  have  ten  men  to  fight 
behind  me.  You  can  tell  Chinnaboy  that  he  is  a  trait 
orous  coward;  and  that,  if  I  meet  him,  I  will  deal  with 


344          FAMOUS   INDIAN   CHIEFS 

him  in  the  same  manner  that  I  would  with  one  of  my 
white  enemies. " 

The  wily  Creek  leader  also  exhibited  traits  of  ex 
cellent  generalship,  for,  when  the  combined  forces  of 
Coffee  and  Jackson  reached  the  vicinity  of  his  encamp 
ment  at  Ten  Islands,  he  ordered  a  retreat  of  his  followers 
to  a  well-fortified  town  at  Tallushatches  (now  Jackson 
ville,  Alabama),  on  the  Southern  shore  of  the  Coosa 
River.  Jackson's  men  were  suffering  still  from  lack  of 
provisions  and  many  were  mutinous,  but  the  remark 
able  leader  kept  them  at  work  with  promises  of  future 
pay  and  honors,  and,  when  news  was  brought  that  a 
large  force  of  Creeks  was  besieging  a  friendly  chief  called 
Path  Killer,  he  divided  his  army.  A  portion,  under 
Colonel  Coffee,  was  sent  to  attack  Tallushatches,  while 
the  rest  were  dispatched  to  the  assistance  of  Path  Killer. 

Colonel  Coffee  had  only  nine  hundred  men  with  him, 
and  sent  forward  only  a  few  of  his  soldiers  to  attack  the 
Indian  stockade  and  then  to  retreat.  He  thus  hoped 
to  entice  the  red  men  from  their  strong  position,  and  his 
plan  was  entirely  successful.  After  making  a  vigorous 
advance  against  the  Creeks,  his  soldiers  began  to  fall 
back,  and  then  to  run  away.  The  Indians  hotly  pur 
sued,  thinking  that  they  had  the  white  men  at  their 
mercy.  But  this  is  exactly  what  Coffee  wished  them  to 
do.  His  greater  force  was  lying  in  ambuscade,  and,  as 
the  painted  warriors  rushed,  yelping,  after  his  flying 
column,  his  other  soldiers  poured  vigorous  broadsides  into 
their  ranks. 

Dismayed  and  terrified,  the  followers  of  Weatherford 
now  turned  to  retreat,  but  the  Americans  surrounded 


WEATHERFORD:  FIGHTER        345 

them  entirely.  Then  ensued  a  sanguinary,  hand-to- 
hand  encounter.  Some  of  the  red  warriors  broke  through 
the  surrounding  line  and  ran  back  to  their  village, 
where  they  hid  in  the  tepees.  As  long  as  they  had 
power  to  move  a  limb,  they  fought  like  tigers  at  bay.  But 
the  white  troops  soon  overcame  all  resistance,  and  killed 
all  of  those  who  had,  such  a  short  time  before,  rushed 
victoriously  against  them.  Five  of  the  Americans  only 
were  killed,  and  forty-one  were  wounded,  while  about 
two  hundred  Indians  were  put  to  death. 

Weatherford  was  not  with  this  division  of  his  forces, 
but,  with  a  more  powerful  contingent,  was  besieging 
the  friendly  Path  Killer  at  Fort  Talladega.  Jackson 
hurried  to  the  relief  of  this  place,  and,  because  of  very 
swift  marching,  arrived  there  much  sooner  than  the 
Creeks  had  expected.  But  Weatherford  was  not  taken 
by  surprise,  and  hurled  his  warriors  against  the  militia 
with  such  fury  that  they  gave  away.  Jackson  quickly 
brought  up  some  mounted  rangers,  who  charged  the  on 
coming  redskins  with  a  will.  In  spite  of  •  Weatherford's 
example  and  exhortations,  his  red  warriors  now  broke 
and  ran.  Three  miles  off  was  a  range  of  densely  wooded 
mountains,  and  to  this  the  Creeks  hastened  as  fast  as 
their  nimble  limbs  would  carry  them,  while  the  Ameri 
cans  followed  in  hot  pursuit.  Fully  a  thousand  savages 
fell  before  the  onrush  of  the  men  in  fringed  buckskin, 
while  but  fifteen  of  the  American  riflemen  were  killed. 

As  the  Creeks,  weary  and  disgruntled,  rested  in  the 
security  of  the  mountains,  a  warrior  approached  Weath 
erford,  and  said : 

"Great  Chief,  I  see  that  we  can  do  nothing  against 


346         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

these  whites.  They  will  conquer  us,  no  matter  how  long 
we  resist.  I,  for  one,  am  going  to  give  myself  up.  As 
for  you,  you  can  continue  the  war  if  you  so  will,  but  it 
will  be  useless/' 

"Coward,"  shouted  the  Creek  leader  in  great  wrath. 
"I  will  have  your  blood  for  such  treachery!"  And 
with  no  more  words,  he  struck  the  red  man  down  with 
his  hatchet. 

With  Jackson  things  were  also  going  ill.  His  men 
grew  so  ill-humored  with  starvation  that  many  revolted, 
and  there  was  danger  of  the  expedition  being  abandoned. 
One  day,  a  starving  soldier  saw  the  General  sitting 
under  a  tree,  eating  something,  and  going  to  him,  said: 

"  General  Jackson,  I  can  stand  this  no  longer.  If 
you  cannot  furnish  me  with  bread,  I  will  go  home,  and 
many  others  with  me.  Men,  sir,  cannot  fight  on  empty 
stomachs." 

Jackson  looked  carefully  at  him  before  answering. 

"You  see  that  I  am  eating,"  said  he.  "I  am  always 
ready  to  divide  with  a  hungry  man.  Here,  take  half  of 
my  supply  of  nourishment." 

So  saying,  he  reached  in  his  pocket  and  extracted  a 
handful  of  acorns. 

"Thank  you,  General,"  replied  the  soldier.  "If  you 
can  fight  on  such  a  diet,  certainly  I,  myself,  can."  And 
so  saying,  he  walked  off  humming  a  tune.  The  example 
of  "Old  Hickory"  (as  Jackson  was  nicknamed)  was  all 
that  allayed  mutiny  and  dispersal  among  the  men. 

Weatherford  now  collected  a  large  force  upon  an  island 
in  the  Tallapoosa  River,  near  the  mouth  of  Emuckfau 
Creek,  and,  in  this  densely  wooded  and  swampy  country, 


WEATHERFORD:    FIGHTER        347 

waited  for  the  Americans  to  advance  upon  him.  Fierce 
and  vindictive  in  his  hatred  for  the  superior  race,  he 
determined  to  fight  to  the  last  ditch  rather  than  to 
capitulate  to  the  men  under  Jackson,  Coffee,  and  Floyd, 
who  headed  the  Georgia  militia.  Here  he  had  built  a 
rude  stockade,  and,  confident  in  his  ability  to  with 
stand  an  attack,  waited  for  developments. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  January,  Jackson,  with  nearly 
one  thousand  men,  marched  for  the  centre  of  the  In 
dian  country,  reinforced  by  Fife,  a  noted  chief,  with 
about  two  hundred  red  warriors.  As  his  soldiers  pushed 
through  the  rough  country  in  the  direction  of  Weather- 
ford's  army,  scouts  from  the  latter's  forces  warned  the 
crafty  chieftain  of  the  approach  of  the  white  troops. 
In  the  early  morning  of  the  twenty-second  of  January) 
the  left  flank  of  the  rangers  was  furiously  attacked  by 
Weatherford's  advance  guard.  Turning  upon  them, 
the  men  under  Old  Hickory  soon  were  engaged  in  a 
furious  battle.  The  underbrush  and  saplings  impeded 
good  fighting,  as  they  afforded  good  cover  to  the  red 
skins,  but  in  spite  of  this,  the  buckskin  rangers  did  as 
much  damage  as  the  savages.  In  a  half  hour's  time  the 
Creeks  were  routed,  but,  as  the  Americans  rested  and 
re-arranged  their  line,  the  Indians  returned  to  the  fray. 
Led  on  by  Weatherford,  in  person,  they  did  great  dam 
age  until  finally  driven  off  by  a  bayonet  charge.  As  the 
whites  withdrew,  because  of  a  shortness  in  their  pro 
visions,  the  Indians  claimed  this  as  a  victory. 

But  Jackson  only  drew  off  to  prepare  for  another 
advance,  while  the  Creeks  determined  to  make  a  last 
stand  at  the  Great  Horseshoe  Bend  of  the  Tallapoosa 


348         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

River,  in  the  state  of  Alabama.  Weatherford  had  a 
thousand  warriors  still  left,  although  many  had  been 
killed  in  the  recent  fighting  with  Old  Hickory.  He 
had  caused  a  well -fortified  camp  to  be  erected,  which 
was  built  with  such  skill  that  it  could  only  be  carried 
by  a  direct  assault.  "We  have  been  defeated  many 
times,"  said  he  to  his  warriors,  "but  now  we  must  win  a 
battle.  If  the  whites  again  defeat  us,  we  shall  be  lost." 

Jackson  was  now  determined  to  crush  the  Indians 
with  an  overwhelming  blow.  Consequently,  on  March 
27th  he  reached  the  neighborhood  of  the  Creeks'  forti 
fications,  with  a  large  and  well-equipped  army  of  fron 
tiersmen  and  friendly  Indians.  The  rangers  had  all  been 
under  fire;  many  of  them  had  lost  friends  and  relatives 
hi  the  massacre  at  Fort  Mimms;  and  thus  there  was  a 
strong  spirit  of  revenge  among  them.  As  they  crept 
silently  through  the  forest  they  marched  in  single  file, 
and  gave  the  impression  of  a  huge  earthworm,  wriggling 
through  the  dense  undergrowth.  Quietly  and  without 
noise,  the  friendly  Indians  and  mounted  rangers  were 
sent  across  the  river  below  the  Indian  encampment, 
so  as  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  red  men;  while  a  small 
body  of  expert  riflemen  was  sent  forward  to  set  fire  to 
several  buildings.  As  these  crackled  and  burned  in  the 
early  morning  light,  the  remaining  troops  opened  fire 
upon  the  breastworks,  behind  which  the  Creek  warriors 
were  hiding. 

For  five  hours  the  fighting  raged.  At  first  it  seemed 
impossible  to  get  into  the  camp  of  Weatherford's  ad 
herents,  but  eventually  a  number  of  the  Tennessee 
rangers  managed  to  climb  over  the  fallen  logs  and 


WEATHERFORD:   FIGHTER        349 

timber,  and  to  grapple  single  handed  with  the  hostiles. 
With  a  rousing  cheer  the  rest  of  the  rangers  now  rushed 
over  the  barricade,  driving  many  of  the  Creeks  behind 
their  houses.  A  desperate  struggle  now  took  place, 
but,  seeing  that  they  were  about  to  be  surrounded,  many 
of  the  Creeks,  including  Weatherford,  made  a  wild 
dash  for  freedom.  Six  hundred  redskins  were  soon 
killed,  while  over  two  hundred  captives,  including 
women  and  children,  were  marched  to  the  rear  under  a 
strong  guard.  At  nightfall  the  pursuit  of  the  Creeks 
was  abandoned,  and  the  battle  of  Tohopeka,  or  the  Great 
Horseshoe  Bend,  was  over.  The  Creeks  had  suffered 
such  an  overwhelming  defeat  that  their  spirit  of  resis 
tance  was  absolutely  crushed. 

Weatherford  escaped  into  the  forest,  and  nothing  was 
heard  of  him.  Hundreds  of  his  followers  came  to 
Jackson's  camp  and  gave  themselves  up  in  the  week 
following  their  defeat  at  Horseshoe  Bend,  for  they 
realized  that  further  resistance  would  be  impossible. 
"I  will  accept  your  capitulation  only  on  one  condition/' 
said  Jackson  to  some  of  the  Creek  refugees.  "And  that 
is  that  you  deliver  Weatherford  to  me,  bound  by  deer 
thongs.  You  must  also  allow  me  to  do  with  him  as 
I  see  fit.  I  know  that  you  wish  for  peace,  but  I  cannot 
guarantee  it  to  you  until  your  leader  is  hi  my  hands. 
He  is  an  evil  man,  and  I  do  not  know  when  he  will  again 
raise  an  insurrection." 

Deep  in  the  tangled  forest,  word  was  brought  to 
Weatherford  of  the  wish  of  Old  Hickory. 

"I  will  never  submit  to  being  bound,"  cried  the 
Creek  chieftain,  "but  I  will  surrender  myself  of  my  own 


350         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

free  will,  if  this  is  the  only  way  in  which  peace  can  be 
assured.  Were  you  people  not  cowards,  I  could  yet 
defeat  this  boasting  General  Jackson." 

Not  long  afterwards  the  American  commander  was 
sitting  in  his  tent,  dictating  some  dispatches,  when 
a  tall  and  stately  Indian  suddenly  stalked  inside.  As 
Jackson,  in  amazement,  gazed  at  him,  the  intruder 
said: 

"I  am  Weatherford,  the  chief  who  led  the  attack 
upon  Fort  Minims.  I  have  come  to  ask  for  peace  for 
my  people,  who  desire  it." 

Jackson  looked  at  him  with  no  cheerful  gaze.  "I 
am  surprised,"  said  he," that  you  should  come  into  my 
presence,  for  I  know  of  your  inhuman  conduct  at  Fort 
Mimms,  for  which  you  deserve  death.  I  ordered  that 
you  should  be  brought  to  me  bound,  and  should  you  have 
been  brought  to  me  in  that  manner,  I  should  have 
known  how  to  treat  you." 

Weatherford  smiled.  "I  am  in  your  power,"  said 
he.  "You  can  do  with  me  as  you  please,  for  I  am  a 
soldier.  I  have  done  the  whites  all  the  harm  that  I 
could.  I  have  fought  them  and  have  fought  them 
bravely.  If  I  had  an  army,  I  would  yet  fight;  I  would 
contend  to  the  last;  but  I  have  none.  My  people  are 
all  gone.  I  can  only  weep  over  the  misfortunes  of  my 
nation." 

Old  Hickory  was  himself  a  brave  man,  and  could 
not  help  admiring  the  boldness  of  this  handsome  Indian 
chieftain.  A  smile  lighted  his  countenance,  as  he  said: 

"I  will  take  no  advantage  of  you;  you  may  yet  raise 
a  war  party  and  fight  us.  But  if  you  are  captured,  you 


WEATHERFORD:    FIGHTER        351 

shall  receive  no  quarter.  Unconditional  surrender  is 
the  only  safe  measure  for  you  and  your  people." 

Weatherford  drew  himself  up  in  a  dignified  manner, 
and  replied: 

"You  can  now  safely  address  me  in  such  terms.  There 
was  a  time  when  I  could  have  answered  you ;  there  was 
a  time  when  I  had  a  choice;  I  have  none  now.  I  have 
not  even  a  hope.  I  could  once  animate  my  warriors  to 
battle,  but  I  cannot  animate  the  dead.  My  warriors 
can  no  longer  hear  my  voice.  Their  bones  are  at 
Talladega,  Tallushatches,  Emuckfau,  and  Tohopeka. 
I  have  not  surrendered  myself  without  thought.  While 
there  was  a  single  chance  for  success,  I  never  left  my 
post  nor  supplicated  for  peace.  But  my  people  are  gone, 
and  I  now  ask  it  for  my  nation,  not  for  myself.  I  look 
back  with  deep  sorrow,  and  wish  to  avert  still  greater 
calamities.  If  I  had  been  left  only  to  contend  with 
the  army  from  Georgia,  I  would  have  raised  my  corn  on 
one  bank  of  the  river,  and  fought  them  on  the  other. 
But  your  people  have  destroyed  my  nation.  You  are  a 
brave  man.  I  rely  upon  your  generosity.  You  will 
exact  no  terms  of  a  conquered  people  but  such  as  they 
should  accede  to.  Whatever  they  may  be,  it  would 
now  be  madness  and  folly  to  oppose  them.  If  they  are 
opposed,  you  shall  find  me  among  the  sternest  enforcers 
of  obedience.  Those  who  would  still  hold  out  can  be 
influenced  only  by  a  mean  spirit  of  revenge.  To  this 
they  must  not,  and  shall  not  sacrifice  the  last  remnant 
of  their  country.  You  have  told  our  nation  where  we 
might  go  and  be  safe.  This  is  good  talk,  and  they  ought 
to  listen  to  it.  They  shall  listen  to  it." 


352         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"Go,"  answered  Jackson,  "if  you  so  will.  I  shall 
not  hinder  you.  But,  if  you  rouse  further  strife,  beware 
of  me  and  my  men.  We  shall  deal  with  you,  next  time, 
with  no  careful  hand." 

The  great  leader  of  the  Creeks  thus  departed,  as 
proudly  arrogant  as  he  had  come,  and  soon  his  form  was 
lost  in  the  shadows  of  the  forest. 


BLACK  HAWK:  CHIEF  OF  THE  SACS 

AND  FOXES  AND  LEADER  OF  THE 

BLACK  HAWK  REBELLION 

STEP  by  step  the  whites  were  fighting  their  way 
across  the  country,  and  in  1832  had  frontier 
settlements  in  the  territory  between  the  Illinois 
and  the  Mississippi  rivers.  The  Sacs  and  the  Foxes 
here  had  their  towns,  their  principal  leader  being  Black 
Hawk,  a  man  of  splendid  physique  and  noble  bearing. 
He  was  not  only  a  warrior,  but  was  also  an  orator  of 
distinction  and  ability,  many  of  his  speeches  possessing 
a  poetical  eloquence  which  is  remarkable.  Personally 
he  was  a  brave  man,  but  he  showed  no  special  general 
ship  in  handling  his  forces,  and,  although  at  first  suc 
cessful  in  attacking  the  whites,  he  soon  was  over 
whelmed  by  the  superior  ability  and  prowess  of  the 
men  of  another  race. 

In  1830  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  through  a  chief  named 
Keokuk  as  negotiator,  sold  much  of  their  land  to  the 
United  States  and  agreed  to  move  to  the  west  of  the 
Mississippi.  Black  Hawk  was  not  consulted  in  this 
matter,  and  became  very  indignant  when  he  learned 
what  had  transpired.  Finding  that  a  considerable 
number  of  Indians  were  dissatisfied  with  the  treaty,  he 
offered  to  place  himself  at  their  head  and  to  rebel 

353 


354         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

against  Keokuk.  But  open  rebellion  did  not  occur, 
because  of  difficulties  with  the  whites,  which  soon 
turned  the  vindictive  spirit  of  Black  Hawk  against 
them,  and  not  against  the  men  of  his  own  race.  The 
act  which  led  to  hostilities  was  peculiar. 

One  of  the  Sacs  found  a  beehive  in  a  hollow  tree,  and 
carried  it  to  his  wigwam.  Some  of  the  white  squatters 
claimed  that  it  was  theirs  and  made  the  Indian  give  it 
up.  But  not  content  with  this,  they  now  plundered 
the  savage's  wigwam  of  all  the  skins  which  he  had  col 
lected  by  hunting  in  the  winter.  When  the  Indian  pro 
tested,  they  laughed  at  him,  and  thus  ill-blood  was 
aroused  between  the  whites  and  the  redskins,  which 
finally  culminated  in  open  warfare.  "We  must  have 
war,"  said  Black  Hawk  in  the  council  chamber,  "or 
else  we  shall  be  driven  into  the  far  West,  without  lands, 
horses,  or  shelter.  Those  of  you  who  are  cowards  may 
follow  Keokuk,  but  those  of  you  who  wish  to  maintain 
your  own  against  the  aggressions  of  these  whites,  must 
take  up  your  tomahawks  with  me." 

An  old  residence  of  the  tribe  was  the  Sac  village, 
situated  upon  a  point  of  land  at  the  confluence  of  the 
Mississippi  and  Rock  Rivers,  which  had  been  occupied 
by  them  for  over  a  century  and  a  half.  As  this  spot 
was  in  the  limits  of  the  ceded  territory,  the  Americans 
demanded  the  evacuation  of  the  village,  but  Black 
Hawk  convinced  Keokuk  that  his  cession  of  land  was 
illegal  and  made  him  promise  to  open  a  negotiation 
with  the  Americans,  and  to  have  the  village  restored. 
With  this  expectation  the  Indians  still  kept  possession 
of  the  village,  until  the  autumn  of  the  year  1830,  when 


BLACK  HAWK:  THE  REBEL      355 

they  went  into  the  deep  forests,  as  usual,  for  their 
winter's  hunt  after  furs.  No  sooner  had  they  departed 
than  the  whites  occupied  the  tepees  and  houses  in  the 
village,  and  when  the  Indians  returned,  they  found  that 
hundreds  of  white  men  and  women  were  in  their  own 
wigwams.  These  refused  to  leave,  claiming  that  the 
village  rightly  belonged  to  them,  and  so  angered  the 
savages  by  their  obstinacy  that  the  chiefs  of  the  allied 
tribes  of  Sacs  and  Foxes  determined  to  drive  them  out 
by  force. 

The  white  settlers  were  not  in  sufficient  numbers  to 
oppose  the  savages,  and,  realizing  their  weakness, 
offered  to  compromise  by  living  in  company  with  the 
tribe.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  Indians  agreed  to 
this,  but  soon  regretted  their  bargain,  as  the  whites 
appropriated  all  the  best  planting  lands,  crowded  the 
red  men  out  of  their  homes,  and  at  length  told  them 
that  they  must  leave  the  village.  Many  complied,  but 
Black  Hawk  and  a  number  of  warriors  refused  to  move; 
a  fact  which  led  the  whites  to  complain  to  the  Governor 
of  Illinois  of  the  "  encroachments  of  the  Indians,  and 
unfair  dealings  of  the  Sacs  and  Foxes." 

"I  will  immediately  send  the  militia  to  your  as 
sistance,"  wrote  the  Governor  to  the  complaining  citi 
zens.  "  I  furthermore  proclaim  that  the  state  has  been 
invaded  by  foreign  enemies.  The  soldiers  are  for  the 
public  defense.  They  will  remove  the  Indians,  dead  or 
alive,  to  their  proper  position  across  the  Mississippi 
River."  Seven  hundred  militiamen  began  an  immedi 
ate  advance  upon  the  settlement,  but  General  Gaines, 
the  commander  of  the  United  States  troops  in  that 


356         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

section  of  country,  foreseeing  that  this  movement  would 
provoke  the  Indians  to  open  hostilities,  hurried  to  Rock 
River  in  order  to  mediate  between  the  soldiers  and 
redskins.  He  arrived  before  the  Illinois  militia  had 
reached  the  ground,  and,  by  means  of  a  long  harangue, 
persuaded  about  a  third  of  the  Indians  to  peacefully 
retire  across  the  river.  The  rest,  including  Black  Hawk, 
refused  to  leave  the  place,  the  women  imploring  their 
husbands  to  fight  rather  than  to  abandon  their  homes. 

Seeing  that  he  would  have  to  use  his  best  powers 
of  persuasion,  Gaines  held  a  council  with  Black  Hawk  on 
the  seventh  of  June,  and  there  argued  for  peace  for  over 
an  hour.  The  savage  leader  was  painted  and  armed 
for  battle,  and  was  surrounded  by  many  of  his  best 
warriors.  "I  am  not  afraid  of  the  Americans,"  said  he, 
"and  I  will  not  remove  from  my  rightful  possessions. 
I  am  fully  able  to  make  war  against  your  soldiers,  and 
to  drive  them  into  the  sea,  if  necessary.  Let  your 
men  come  on.  I  am  ready  to  receive  them."  Not 
withstanding  their  proud  boasts,  as  soon  as  the  militia 
came  up  on  the  twenty-fifth,  the  followers  of  Black 
Hawk  abandoned  their  position  without  firing  a  gun. 
Two  days  later,  Black  Hawk  made  his  appearance 
again,  with  a  white  flag,  and  demanded  another  parley, 
after  which  a  treaty  was  agreed  upon,  whereby  he  and 
his  malcontents  relinquished  their  claim  to  the  territory 
under  dispute.  Satisfied  with  this  turn  of  affairs,  the 
militia  withdrew. 

Peace  was  to  be  of  short  duration,  for  the  Indians 
still  retained  their  feelings  of  exasperation  caused  by 
the  treatment  which  they  had  received,  and  the  Ameri- 


Courtesy  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  Smithsonian  Institute. 
BLACK    HAWK. 


BLACK  HAWK:  THE  REBEL      357 

cans  did  not  live  up  to  the  terms  of  their  treaty.  As 
usual,  they  scoffed  at  the  requests  of  the  redskins,  and 
told  them  that  their  demands  were  unjust,  when  they 
asked  for  a  supply  of  corn  which  had  been  promised  them. 
Black  Hawk's  men  grew  bold  and  surly.  Early  in 
1831  they  attacked  a  band  of  peaceable  Sioux,  encamped 
near  an  American  fort  at  Prairie  du  Chien,  and  killed 
twenty-eight.  This  exasperated  the  white  settlers,  and 
a  demand  was  made  for  the  murderers.  Black  Hawk 
refused  to  deliver  them  up.  "This  is  an  affair  between 
two  Indian  tribes,  independent  of  the  authority  of  the 
Great  White  Father,"  said  he.  "I  will  not  give  up  my 
people,  because  of  this.  You  can  do  what  you  like 
about  it."  As  the  murdered  men  were,  at  the  time  of 
the  killing,  under  the  protection  of  the  United  States 
Government,  the  Indian  chief  was,  of  course,  in  the 
wrong. 

It  was  now  the  spring  of  the  year  1832,  and  Black 
Hawk  had  collected  a  force  of  Sacs,  Foxes  and  Winne- 
bagoes  amounting  to  about  a  thousand  warriors.  Cross 
ing  the  Mississippi,  the  redskins  marched  upon  the 
frontier  settlements,  burning  and  scalping  with  a  ruth 
less  hand,  and  driving  the  white  inhabitants  before 
them  in  alarm.  Farms  were  abandoned;  remote 
settlements  were  left  to  their  fate;  while  forts  and 
stockades  were  crowded  with  refugees.  The  Governor 
of  Illinois  ordered  out  a  brigade  of  militia,  and,  under 
General  Atkinson,  the  soldiers  marched  for  the  scene 
of  hostilities.  Regular  troops  soon  joined  with  the 
state  militia,  so  that  three  thousand  four  hundred  men 
were  marching  towards  the  arrogant  chief  of  the  re- 


358         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

bellious  Indians.  Black  Hawk  saw  that  he  could  not 
cope  with  such  a  force,  and  so  withdrew  from  the  open 
country  into  the  swamps,  from  the  protection  of  which 
he  sent  out  marauding  parties  against  the  settlements. 
The  country  was  in  the  greatest  fear  and  alarm. 

Atkinson  halted  for  reinforcements  and  dispatched 
a  Major  Stillman  with  two  hundred  and  seventy  men 
to  make  a  reconnoissance  in  the  direction  of  Black 
Hawk's  hiding  place.  Learning  of  their  approach,  the 
chief  sent  out  three  of  his  warriors  with  a  flag  of  truce, 
and  an  invitation  to  the  officers  to  visit  his  camp.  The 
white  soldiers  paid  no  attention  to  the  flag,  took  the 
Indians  prisoners,  and  killed  two  other  Winnebagoes 
who  came  up  to  look  for  their  first  party,  when  the 
emissaries  did  not  return.  This  was  not  the  boasted 
method  of  warfare  which  the  white  man  prided  himself 
upon,  and  it  naturally  enfuriated  the  followers  of  Black 
Hawk.  There  were  but  forty  in  the  camp,  as  the  rest 
were  out  hunting,  and,  when  the  whites  pressed  forward 
to  the  attack,  these  armed  themselves  for  the  fray,  and 
quietly  waited  for  the  rangers  to  approach.  The  latter 
advanced  in  much  disorder,  crossed  a  narrow  creek, 
and  were  confidently  'pushing  towards  Black  Hawk's 
camp,  when  they  were  fiercely  assailed  by  the  savages. 
Although  outnumbering  the  redskins,  they  were  no 
match  for  them,  and  soon  were  thrown  into  great  dis 
order.  Their  situation  finally  became  so  desperate  that 
the  retreat  was  sounded  on  the  bugle,  and  they  ran  away 
in  great  confusion.  It  was  a  signal  triumph  for  the 
savages. 

More  troops   were  ordered  to  join   with  Atkinson. 


BLACK  HAWK:  THE  REBEL      359 

Five  companies  of  artillery  made  a  rapid  march  of  eigh 
teen  days  from  Fortress  Monroe,  on  the  Chesapeake,  to 
Chicago,  on  Lake  Michigan,  but  were  attacked  by 
cholera  on  the  route,  so  that  all  were  unfit  for  service 
before  they  even  reached  the  seat  of  war.  Only  nine 
were  left  alive  in  one  entire  corps.  Many  men  already 
at  the  front  deserted.  Some  died  in  the  woods,  and 
their  bodies  were  devoured  by  wolves.  Others  straggled 
into  the  settlements  with  their  knapsacks  on  their 
backs,  staggering  from  faintness  and  wounds.  They 
were  shunned  by  the  inhabitants  as  the  source  of  a 
mortal  disease,  and  were  left  to  shift  for  themselves. 
General  Scott,  who  was  advancing  with  reinforcements, 
directed  Atkinson  to  pursue  the  campaign  without 
waiting  for  him,  as  his  entire  force  was  knocked  out  by 
the  dread  scourge,  so  the  American  leader  determined 
for  an  immediate  advance  upon  the  warriors  of  the 
now  much-feared  leader  of  the  Indian  forces. 

As  the  frontier  soldiers  scoured  the  country  in  the 
endeavor  to  drive  the  savages  from  their  lurking-places, 
Black  Hawk  began  to  retreat.  Abandoning  a  camp 
which  he  had  formed  at  the  Four  Lakes,  he  moved  to 
wards  the  Mississippi,  having  been  assured  by  the 
tribes  who  lived  in  this  quarter  that  they  would  not  only 
join  his  party,  but  would  also  furnish  him  with  plen 
tiful  supplies  and  provisions.  He  was  to  be  grievously 
disappointed.  No  allies  joined  him,  no  provisions  were 
brought  to  his  camp,  and  scouts  told  him  that  the 
Americans  were  close  upon  his  trail.  As  he  was  about 
to  cross  the  Wisconsin  River,  about  forty  miles  from  a 
frontier  fortress,  called  Fort  Winnebago,  he  was  at- 


360         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

tacked  by  an  advanced  body  of  the  Americans,  under 
General  Dodge.  The  fight  began  just  at  dusk,  and, 
although  sixteen  of  the  red  men  were  slain,  the  rest 
escaped  across  the  stream.  Many  of  the  women  and 
children  were  captured  by  the  white  soldiers  as  they 
attempted  to  run  down  the  river  in  canoes,  and  many 
of  them  were  drowned,  as  their  frail  barques  were  sunk 
by  the  fire  of  the  frontiersmen. 

The  once  boastful  Indian  chief  was  now  terrified  by 
the  advance  of  his  despised  enemies,  and  his  vaunted 
courage  had  ebbed  with  the  decay  of  his  fortunes.  Had 
he  been  a  Tecumseh,  or  a  King  Philip,  he  would  have 
made  one  last  desperate  stand  against  the  whites,  and 
would  have  died  at  the  head  of  his  rebellious  warriors. 
He  had  suffered  no  wrong  from  the  white  settlers  be 
yond  that  of  personal  insult,  and,  although  he  had  been 
driven  from  the  home  of  his  forefathers,  it  had  been  only 
after  a  treaty  with  members  of  his  tribe.  Yet,  it  is 
hard  to  restrain  our  sympathy  for  him  and  his  people, 
for  now,  surrounded  on  three  sides,  his  one  thought  was 
of  safety,  and  he  was  bent  solely  on  the  means  of  escape 
for  the  remnant  of  his  fighting  force. 

On  August  1st,  as  he  was  attempting  to  cross  the 
Mississippi,  he  was  interrupted  by  an  armed  steamboat, 
called  the  Warrior,  the  Captain  of  which  has  written 
the  following  account  of  the  engagement  which  then 
took  place: 

"I  was  dispatched  with  the  Warrior  alone  to  Wapa- 
shaw's  village,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  above 
Prairie  du  Chien,  to  inform  them  of  the  approach  of 
Black  Hawk,  and  to  order  down  all  the  friendly  Indians 


BLACK  HAWK:  THE  REBEL      361 

to  Prairie  du  Chien.  On  the  way  down  we  met  one  of 
the  Sioux  band,  who  informed  us  that  the  Indians 
(under  Black  Hawk)  were  on  Bad  Axe  River,  to  the 
number  of  four  hundred.  We  stopped  to  cut  some 
wood  and  prepare  for  action.  About  four  o'clock  on 
Wednesday  afternoon  (August  1st),  we  found  the 
Gentlemen  where  he  stated  that  he  had  left  them.  As 
we  neared  them,  they  raised  a  white  flag  and  endeavored 
to  decoy  us,  but  we  were  a  little  too  old  for  them,  and, 
instead  of  landing,  ordered  them  to  send  a  boat  on 
board,  which  they  declined.  After  some  fifteen  minutes' 
delay,  giving  them  time  to  remove  a  few  of  their  women 
and  children,  we  let  slip  a  sixpounder,  loaded  with 
canister,  followed  by  a  severe  fire  of  musketry,  and  if 
ever  you  saw  straight  blankets  (Indians  running)  you 
would  have  seen  them  there.  I  fought  them  at  anchor 
most  of  the  time,  and  we  were  all  very  much  exposed. 
I  have  a  ball  which  came  in  close  by  where  I  was  stand 
ing  and  passed  through  the  bulkhead  of  the  wheel- 
room.  We  fought  them  for  about  an  hour  or  more, 
until  our  wood  began  to  fail,  and,  night  coming  on,  we 
left  and  went  on  to  the  Prairie.  This  little  fight  cost 
them  twenty-three  killed,  and,  of  course,  a  great  many 
wounded.  We  never  lost  a  man,  and  had  but  one 
wounded — shot  through  the  leg.  The  next  morning, 
before  we  could  get  back  again,  they  had  the  whole  of 
General  Atkinson's  army  upon  them.  We  found  them 
at  it,  walked  in  and  took  a  hand  ourselves.  The  first 
shot  from  the  Warrior  laid  out  three.  I  can  hardly  tell 
you  anything  about  it,  for  I  am  in  great  haste,  as  I  am 
now  on  my  way  to  the  field  again.  The  army  lost  eight 


362         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

or  nine  killed,  and  seventeen  wounded,  whom  we  brought 
down.  One  died  on  deck,  last  night.  We  brought 
down  thirty-six  prisoners,  women  and  children.  There 
is  no  fun  in  fighting  Indians,  particularly  at  this  season, 
when  the  grass  is  bright." 

What  he  says  of  Atkinson's  arrival  is  only  too  true. 
Atkinson  arrived  with  a  vengeance,  and,  after  a  three 
hours'  action,  totally  defeated  the  Indians;  great  num 
bers  of  them  being  driven  into  the  Mississippi  and 
drowned,  or  captured,  by  the  American  sharpshooters. 
Black  Hawk  stole  away  and  got  safely  off,  during  the 
action,  leaving  all  his  baggage  behind  him,  and  certifi 
cates  signed  by  British  officers,  testifying  to  his  good 
character  and  excellent  services  rendered  by  him  to  the 
British  cause  in  the  war  of  1812.  With  a  small  party, 
he  reached  the  Winnebago  village  of  Prairie  du  Chien, 
and,  despairing  of  eluding  his  persevering  pursuers, 
told  the  chiefs  of  this  settlement  that  he  wished  to  sur 
render  himself  to  the  whites,  and  that,  if  they  wished, 
they  might  put  him  to  death.  But  the  Winnebago  war 
riors  did  him  no  harm.  Their  women  presented  him  with 
a  suit  of  white  tanned  deerhide,  as  a  testimonial  to  his 
bravery  and  gallantry;  made  much  of  him,  and  crowded 
about  the  renowned  chieftain  in  wonder  and  delight. 
After  a  few  days  of  rest  he  was  accompanied  by  two 
Winnebago  chiefs  to  the  headquarters  of  General  Street, 
where  he  was  delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  American 
General. 

The  soldier  was  seated  at  a  table,  when  the  famous 
warrior  entered,  and,  greeting  him  cordially,  he  asked 
him  if  he  had  anything  to  say  for  himself.  The  cap- 


BLACK  HAWK:  THE  REBEL      363 

tured  chieftain  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and 
then  spoke  in  a  slow  and  majestic  manner.  Although 
renowned  only  as  a  warrior,  his  oratory  is  quite  equal 
to  that  of  Red  Jacket  and  other  famous  speakers  of  the 
Indian  race;  and  had  he  not  been  noted  as  a  war  chief 
tain,  his  speeches  would  have  given  him  distinction 
among  those  of  his  own  color. 

"You  have  taken  me  prisoner  with  all  my  warriors/7 
said  he.  "I  am  much  grieved,  for  I  expected,  if  I  did 
not  defeat  you,  to  hold  out  much  longer  and  give  you 
more  trouble  before  I  surrendered.  I  tried  hard  to 
bring  you  into  ambush,  but  your  last  general  under 
stands  Indian  fighting.  The  first  one  was  not  so  wise. 
When  I  saw  that  I  could  not  beat  you  by  Indian  fighting, 
I  determined  to  rush  on  you  and  fight  you  face  to  face. 
I  fought  hard.  But  your  guns  were  well  aimed.  The 
bullets  flew  like  birds  in  the  air,  and  whizzed  by  our 
ears  like  the  wind  through  the  trees  in  winter.  My 
warriors  fell  around  me;  it  began  to  look  dismal.  I 
saw  my  evil  day  at  hand.  The  sun  rose  dim  on  us  in 
the  morning,  and  at  night  it  sunk  in  a  dark  cloud,  and 
looked  like  a  ball  of  fire.  That  was  the  last  sun  that 
shone  on  Black  Hawk.  His  heart  is  dead  and  no  longer 
beats  quick  in  his  bosom.  He  is  now  a  prisoner  to  the 
white  man;  they  will  do  with  him  as  they  wish.  But 
he  can  stand  torture,  and  is  not  afraid  of  death.  He 
is  no  coward.  Black  Hawk  is  an  Indian. 

"He  has  done  nothing  for  which  an  Indian  has  been 
ashamed.  He  has  fought  for  his  countrymen,  the 
squaws,  and  pappooses,  against  white  men,  who  came 
year  after  year  to  cheat  him  and  take  away  their  lands. 


364          FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

You  know  the  cause  of  our  making  war.  It  is  known 
to  all  white  men.  They  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  it. 
The  white  men  despise  the  Indians  and  drive  them 
from  their  homes.  But  the  Indians  are  not  deceitful. 
The  white  men  speak  bad  of  the  Indian  and  look  at  him 
spitefully.  But  the  Indian  does  not  tell  his.  Indians 
do  not  steal. 

"Black  Hawk  is  a  true  Indian  and  disdains  to  cry 
like  a  woman.  He  feels  for  his  wife,  his  children,  and 
friends.  But  he  does  not  care  for  himself.  He  cares 
for  his  nation  and  the  Indians.  They  will  suffer.  He 
laments  their  fate.  The  white  men  do  not  scalp  the 
head;  but  they  do  worse,  they  poison  the  heart;  it  is 
not  pure  with  them.  His  countrymen  will  not  be 
scalped,  but  they  will,  in  a  few  years,  become  like  the 
white  men,  so  that  you  can't  trust  them,  and  there  must 
be,  as  in  the  white  settlements,  nearly  as  many  officers 
as  men,  to  take  care  of  them  and  keep  them  in  order. 

"Farewell,  my  nation!  Black  Hawk  tried  to  save 
you  and  avenge  your  wrongs.  He  drank  the  blood 
of  some  of  the  whites.  He  has  been  taken  prisoner,  and 
his  plans  are  stopped.  He  can  do  no  more.  He  is  near 
his  end.  His  sun  is  setting,  and  he  will  rise  no  more. 
Farewell  to  Black  Hawk." 

Although  much  impressed  by  this  oration,  the  General 
ordered  the  noted  chief  to  be  made  a  prisoner,  and  sent 
to  Washington  to  confer  with  Andrew  Jackson,  who 
was  the  President.  Arriving  at  the  seat  of  government, 
the  celebrated  warrior  was  soon  ushered  into  the  presence 
of  the  chief  magistrate,  whom  he  greeted  with  the 
words:  "I  am  a  man  and  you  are  another.  Do  with 


BLACK  HAWK:   THE  REBEL      365 

me  as  you  will.  I  know  that  you  will  give  me  fair 
treatment." 

Later  on,  he  said:  "We  did  not  expect  to  conquer 
the  whites,  no.  They  had  too  many  houses;  too  many 
men.  I  took  up  the  hatchet,  for  my  part,  to  revenge 
the  injuries  which  my  people  could  no  longer  endure. 
Had  I  borne  them  longer  without  striking,  my  people 
would  have  said,  'Black  Hawk  is  a  woman;  he  is  too 
old  to  be  a  chief;  he  is  a  Sac.'  These  reflections  caused 
me  to  raise  the  warwhoop.  I  say  no  more  of  it;  it  is 
known  to  you.  Keokuk  once  was  here;  you  took  him 
by  the  hand,  and,  when  he  wished  to  return  to  his  home, 
you  were  willing.  Black  Hawk  expects  that,  like 
Keokuk,  we  shall  be  permitted  to  return,  too." 

"  You  must  feel  no  uneasiness  about  your  women  and 
children,"  said  the  President.  "They  will  be  looked 
after  and  will  be  protected  from  their  Indian  enemies. 
You  must  promise  me  never  to  lift  the  hatchet  again 
against  the  white  man,  and  then  you  can  return  to  your 
own  race." 

Having  secured  the  necessary  promise,  Black  Hawk, 
with  some  companions,  was  sent  to  Norfolk,  Baltimore, 
Philadelphia  and  New  York,  where  he  was  amazed  and 
much  flattered  by  the  immense  crowds  of  spectators 
who  flocked  from  all  quarters  to  obtain  a  view  of  him. 
The  sight  of  the  navy  yards,  arsenals,  and  ships  of  war 
made  him  realize  the  weakness  and  insignificance  of  his 
own  nation  compared  with  the  Americans,  and,  upon 
viewing  some  troops  in  New  York,  he  exclaimed:  "I 
once  thought  that  I  could  conquer  the  whites,  my  heart 
grew  bitter  and  my  hands  grew  strong.  But  the  white 


366         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

men  were  mighty.  I  and  my  people  failed.  I  see  the 
strength  of  the  white  men.  I  will  be  the  white  man's 
friend.  I  will  go  to  my  people  and  speak  good  of  the 
white  men.  I  will  tell  them  that  they  are  like  the 
leaves  of  the  forest,  very  many,  very  strong,  and  that 
I  will  fight  no  more  against  them." 

From  New  York  the  Indians  returned  by  way  of 
Albany  and  the  Great  Lakes  to  the  Upper  Mississippi, 
where  they  were  set  at  liberty.  No  incident  worthy  of 
record  took  place  for  three  years  after  his  liberation, 
until  the  summer  of  1837,  when  a  battle  occurred  be 
tween  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  on  one  hand,  and  the  Sioux 
upon  the  other,  in  which  this  noted  chieftain  partici 
pated.  The  remainder  of  his  life  was  peaceful  enough, 
as  he  was  honored  by  both  reds  and  whites.  Invited 
to  a  dinner  at  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration  at  Port 
Madison,  Wisconsin,  he  was  seated  to  the  right  of  the 
toastmaster,  who  spoke  of  him  as  follows,  when  his 
health  was  proposed: 

"Our  illustrious  guest.  May  his  declining  years  be 
as  calm  as  his  previous  life  has  been  boisterous  and 
filled  with  warlike  events.  His  present  friendship  to  the 
whites  fully  entitles  him  to  a  seat  at  our  board." 

To  which  the  now  aged  warrior  responded: 

"It  has  pleased  the  Great  Spirit  that  I  am  here  to 
day.  The  earth  is  our  mother,  and  we  are  now  permitted 
to  look  upon  it.  A  few  snows  ago  I  was  fighting  against 
the  white  people;  perhaps  I  was  wrong;  let  it  be  for 
gotten.  I  love  my  towns  and  cornfields  on  the  Rock 
River;  it  is  a  beautiful  country.  I  fought  for  it,  but 
it  is  now  yours.  Keep  it  as  the  Sacs  did.  I  was  once 


BLACK  HAWK:   THE   REBEL      367 

a  warrior,  but  I  am  now  poor.  I  love  to  look  upon  the 
Mississippi.  I  have  looked  upon  it  from  a  child.  I  love 
the  beautiful  river.  My  home  has  always  been  upon  its 
banks.  I  thank  you  for  your  friendship.  I  will  say 


no  more." 


Black  Hawk — the  orator,  and  defeated,  though  not 
crestfallen  chieftain — died  October  3rd,  1838.  Many 
whites,  as  well  as  Indians,  assembled  at  his  tepee  to  pay 
their  last  respects  to  the  noted  red  man,  and  buried 
him  as  the  Sac  chieftains  had  always  been  interred. 
This  was  according  to  his  wish.  Instead  of  covering  his 
body  with  earth,  it  was  placed  upon  the  ground  in  a 
sitting  posture,  with  a  cane  between  the  knees,  supporting 
the  hands.  Slabs  and  rails  were  then  piled  around  the 
remains,  and  the  bones  of  Black  Hawk  were  left  to  the 
care  of  the  elements.  During  the  following  winter  the 
body  was  stolen,  and  a  year  later  was  found  in  the 
possession  of  a  surgeon  of  Quincy,  Illinois.  But  the 
Governor  of  Iowa,  learning  of  this  outrage,  compelled 
the  thieving  medical  man  to  restore  the  skeleton  of  the 
noted  warrior  to  his  friends.  These  interred  the  bones 
of  the  chief  beneath  the  ground,  with  a  simple  head 
stone  to  mark  the  last  resting  place  of  the  once  powerful 
warrior  of  the  Sacs  and  Foxes. 


OSCEOLA:   THE  SNAKE  OF  THE 
FLORIDA  EVERGLADES 

IN  a  rude  stockade  in  Florida,  an  officer  of  the  United 
States  Government  sat  before  a  rough-hewn  table, 
upon  which  was  laid  the  papers  of  an  Indian  treaty. 
It  was  the  year  1832.     Before  him  stood  several  Sem- 
inole  chieftains,   one  of  whom  was  nearly  white  and 
had  a  sharp,  intelligent  and  crafty-looking  countenance. 

"You  see,"  said  the  American  soldier,  pointing  to  the 
paper,  "by  the  terms  of  this  agreement,  you  Seminoles 
are  to  give  up  all  your  possessions  in  Florida,  are  to 
receive  $15,400  upon  arriving  at  your  new  home,  and 
shall  each  have  a  blanket.  Your  women  will  each  have 
a  new  homespun  frock.  Seven  of  your  chiefs  must  con 
sent  to  this  agreement  before  it  becomes  a  law.  That 
is  the  will  of  our  great  father,  President  Jackson." 

"I  will  sign  your  paper,"  said  one  of  the  gaudily- 
attired  Seminoles,  stepping  forward. 

"And  I,  also,"  said  another. 

But  he  of  the  sharp  features  jumped  quickly  between 
them  and  the  parchment.  It  was  Osceola,  half  Indian 
and  half  white,  a  redskin  of  treacherous  courage  and  im 
placable  hatred  for  the  whites. 

"I  shall  never  sign  these  lies/'  said  he  with  violence, 
"you  whites  are  all  cowards  and  cheats!"  and,  seizing 
his  long  knife  in  his  right  hand,  he  plunged  it  through 

368 


Courtesy  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  Smithsonian  Institute. 
OSCEOLA. 


OSCEOLA:  THE   SNAKE  369 

the  paper  with  such  force  that  it  went  clean  through  the 
table  upon  which  it  lay.  Then  turning  haughtily,  he 
left  the  room,  and  disappeared. 

The  officer  wrote  to  Washington  that,  in  spite  of  the 
opposition  of  some  of  the  chiefs,  the  treaty  would  be 
ratified  by  the  Indians  and  they  would  leave  their  homes 
in  the  Everglades  and  swamps  to  the  possession  of  the 
whites.  But,  in  this,  he  was  mistaken.  It  became 
apparent  that  the  Seminoles  intended  to  fight  rather 
than  to  give  up  their  lands  to  the  white  pioneers.  A 
General  Thompson  called  the  real  leaders  of  these 
Southern  redskins  to  another  conference,  in  October, 
1834,  and  said: 

"I  have  told  you  that  you  must  stand  to  your  bargain ; 
my  talk  is  the  same.  Your  father,  the  President,  who 
is  your  friend,  will  compel  you  to  go.  Therefore,  be 
not  deluded  by  any  hope  or  expectation  that  you  will  be 
permitted  to  remain  here." 

"We  will  remain  and  will  fight,"  answered  the  spokes 
man  of  the  chiefs. 

Six  months  later,  they  were  again  called  together 
to  hear  the  message  of  their  father,  President  Jackson, 
the  great  white  chief  in  Washington.  General  Thomp 
son  read  them  the  message  of  this  wise  statesman, 
which  ran: 

"  My  children,  I  am  sorry  to  have  heard  that  you  have 
been  listening  to  bad  counsel.  You  know  me,  and  you 
know  that  I  would  not  deceive  you,  nor  advise  you  to 
do  anything  that  was  unjust  or  injurious.  Open  your 
ears  and  attend  now  to  what  I  am  going  to  say  to  you. 
They  are  the  words  of  a  friend,  and  the  words  of  truth. 


370         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"The  white  people  are  settling  round  you.  The  game 
has  disappeared  from  your  country.  Your  people  are 
poor  and  hungry.  All  this  you  have  perceived  for  some 
time.  And  nearly  three  years  ago  you  made  an  agreement 
with  your  friend,  Colonel  Gadsen,  acting  on  the  part  of 
the  United  States,  by  which  you  agreed  to  cede  your 
lands  in  Florida,  and  to  remove  and  join  your  brothers, 
the  Creeks,  in  the  country  west  of  the  Mississippi." 

After  going  into  the  terms  of  the  treaty,  the  message 
concluded  with: 

"I  now  learn  that  you  refuse  to  carry  into  effect  the 
solemn  promises  thus  made  by  you,  and  that  you  have 
stated  to  the  officers  of  the  United  States  that  you  will 
not  remove  to  the  Western  country.  My  children,  I 
have  never  deceived  you,  nor  will  I  ever  deceive  any  of 
the  red  people.  I  tell  you  that  you  must  go,  and  you 
will  go.  ...  But  lest  some  of  your  rash  men  should 
forcibly  oppose  your  arrangements  for  removal,  I  have 
ordered  a  large  military  force  to  be  sent  among  you.  .  .  . 
Should  you  listen  to  the  bad  birds  that  are  always 
flying  about  you,  and  refuse  to  go,  I  have  directed  the 
commanding  officer  to  remove  you  by  force.  This  will 
be  done.  I  pray  the  Great  Spirit,  therefore,  to  incline 
you  to  do  what  is  right." 

This  strong  appeal  divided  the  Seminoles,  a  con 
siderable  number  consenting  to  their  removal;  but 
Osceola  would  not  hear  of  such  a  step,  and,  when  pro 
testing  against  the  matter  in  the  presence  of  General 
Thompson,  grew  so  angry  that  he  drew  a  knife.  "Arrest 
this  man,  immediately!"  cried  the  now  irate  soldier, 
"and  put  him  in  irons  until  further  orders." 


OSCEOLA:  THE   SNAKE  371 

Maddened  and  outraged  by  this  treatment,  Osceola 
secretly  swore  revenge.  The  devil  rose  in  the  soul  of 
this  mongrel  of  the  Florida  canebrakek,  and  he  made  an 
oath  to  never  rest  until  he  had  the  life  blood  of  General 
Thompson.  But,  simulating  a  spirit  of  peace,  he  agreed 
to  sign  the  treaty,  and  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  persuade 
his  people  to  follow  his  example.  He  was  playing  a 
part,  and  his  true  nature  soon  asserted  itself,  after 
seventy-nine  of  his  people  (men,  women,  and  children) 
signed  the  compact  with  the  Government  of  the  United 
States  at  Fort  King.  Osceola,  himself,  put  his  name 
to  the  deed,  but  two  weeks  later  shot  down  a  white 
interloper  who  had  penetrated  the  dense  jungle  of  the 
Everglades,  where  he  had  made  his  home.  Soon  all  of 
the  Seminoles  were  in  arms,  and  the  Government  of  the 
United  States  was  plunged  into  a  desperate  conflict, 
which  was  to  last  for  seven  long  and  tedious  years. 

There  were  three  important  and  crucial  events  in 
this  bitter  struggle.  One  was  the  annihilation  of  Major 
Bade  and  his  men;  another  the  shooting  of  General 
Thompson,  and  a  third  the  capture  and  death  of  the 
crafty  and  treacherous  Osceola. 

Only  five  hundred  regular  troops  of  the  United  States 
army  were  in  Florida  in  the  fall  of  1836.  One  company 
was  at  St.  Augustine;  six  were  in  the  centre  of  the  state 
at  Fort  King,  and  three  were  near  what  is  now  the  town 
of  Tampa,  at  Fort  Brooke  on  Hillsboro  Bay.  "Two 
companies  will  leave  Fort  Brooke  on  December  16th, 
to  meet  an  equal  number  from  Fort  King  near  the 
forks  of  the  Ouithlacoochee  River,  in  order  to  make  an 
active  campaign  against  the  Seminoles/'  wrote  General 


372         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Clinch,  the  director  of  the  Southern  army  at  that  time, 
to  the  commander  at  Fort  Brooke.  So,  collecting  the 
necessary  men,  that  part  of  the  expedition  which  was 
to  come  from  Fort  Brooke  was  soon  made  up,  placed 
under  the  charge  of  Major  Francis  L.  Dade,  who  had 
fought  gallantly  at  Tippecanoe  twenty-five  years  be 
fore,  and,  with  one  hundred  and  nine  effectives,  and 
a  guide  (half  negro  and  half  Spanish)  started  towards 
the  place  of  rendezvous.  One  six-pound  cannon,  drawn 
by  four  oxen,  brought  up  the  rear. 

The  troops  were  not  able  to  make  speedy  progress, 
for  tangled  weeds,  branches,  and  vines  grew  across  the 
roadway  in  dense  confusion.  In  four  days  they  only 
went  sixty-five  miles  into  the  jungle,  in  whose  dank  and 
soggy  depths  the  keen  eyes  of  Osceola's  men  watched 
like  ferrets.  Lean-bodied  warriors  crept  like  snakes 
through  the  undergrowth,  by  paths  known  to  them 
selves  alone,  and  kept  their  cruel  chieftain  continually 
advised  of  the  advance  of  the  little  army.  Even  the 
half-breed  guide  was  a  spy  and  a  traitor;  he  had  told 
the  Seminoles  by  what  route  the  whites  were  to  advance, 
and  had  hinted  to  them  that  it  would  be  an  excellent 
opportunity  to  annihilate  the  entire  band.  Osceola 
prepared  to  do  so,  and,  in  a  place  favorable  for  attack, 
collected  a  strong  body  of  half-naked  and  well-armed 
redskins. 

On  December  the  28th,  Major  Dade's  little  battalion 
crossed  the  waters  of  the  Ouithlacoochee  and  marched 
slowly  along  the  sandy  trail  which  was  the  only  road. 
The  ground  was  rather  open  and  covered  with  a  sparse 
growth  of  tropical  palmettos.  On  the  right  was  a  small 


OSCEOLA:  THE   SNAKE  373 

pond,  surrounded  by  a  swampy  marsh,  overgrown 
with  rank  grass,  five  feet  high,  and  scrubby  bushes 
and  trees.  On  the  left  it  was  open  and  without  much 
grass.  The  troops  pushed  on  unsuspectingly,  but  behind 
the  rank  growth  of  weeds  several  hundred  Seminoles, 
under  Micanopy,  lay  in  ambush.  Osceola  was  away  upon 
a  mission  of  death,  and  had  left  strict  orders  that  not  a 
savage  was  to  fire  his  piece  until  the  signal  was  given. 

The  Americans  were  strung  out  in  a  long  line,  and 
were  totally  unsuspicious  of  any  attack.  Two  Lieu 
tenants  were  in  the  advance,  and  after  them  marched 
Major  Dade  with  the  main  force,  the  six-pounder  in  the 
midst  of  the  light-hearted  soldiers.  They  trudged 
along  singing,  but  Micanopy  had  his  eye  upon  the  leader 
of  the  expedition,  and,  as  he  passed  by,  the  Indian  took 
careful  aim  at  his  head.  Crack!  a  rifle  shot  rang  out  upon 
the  clear  air,  the  gallant  Major  fell  prostrate  to  the 
ground,  and,  with  a  wild,  blood-curdling  warwhoop, 
the  Seminole  warriors  discharged  a  gruelling  volley  into 
the  advancing  column.  The  two  Lieutenants  in  front 
immediately  went  down.  The  suddenness  of  the  attack 
appalled  and  staggered  the  Americans. 

But,  although  staggered,  there  was  no  panic,  and  the 
whites  were  not  disorganized.  With  immediate  promp 
titude  the  soldiers  fell  back  from  the  road  into  the  trees, 
and  returned  the  rifle  fire  of  their  savage  enemies. 
Crouching  behind  fallen  logs  and  palmetto  stamps,  they 
only  discharged  their  muskets  when  they  saw  a  redskin 
show  himself,  and  so  accurate  was  their  fire  that  the 
attackers  finally  withdrew.  For  forty  minutes  the 
battle  had  raged  with  fury. 


374         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

About  fifty  Americans  were  now  left,  and,  with  a 
knowledge  of  Indian  tactics  that  is  commendable,  they 
instantly  began  to  fell  trees  for  a  breastwork  in  the 
form  of  a  triangle.  The  wounded  were  carried  to  the 
centre,  and  the  six-pounder  was  placed  where  it  could 
rake  the  oncoming  foe.  Working  with  desperation,  the 
whites  had  succeeded  in  raising  a  protecting  barrier, 
three  tree  trunks  high,  when  a  terrible  yell  from  the 
forest  of  palmettos  announced  another  Indian  attack. 
The  Seminoles  poured  a  destructive  fire  into  the  little 
fort.  Men  fell  upon  every  side,  but  with  stolid  and 
grim  determination,  the  soldiers  fought  on  in  silence. 

Unfortunately  for  the  soldiers,  their  palisade  was  in 
a  slight  hollow,  so  the  Indians  commanded  it  from  all 
sides.  Lieutenant  Keais  lay  helpless  against  the  breast 
work  with  both  arms  broken,  until  killed  by  a  bullet 
through  the  head.  Another  officer,  Henderson,  con 
tinued  to  load  and  fire  his  musket  with  a  broken  arm, 
until  dispatched  by  a  leaden  missile  in  the  chest.  A 
Doctor  did  great  damage  with  two  double-barreled 
shotguns,  until  finally  knocked  over  by  the  accurate 
fire  of  some  Seminoles  who  had  crawled  into  the  trees. 
Captain  Gardiner  was  seen  by  one  of  the  survivors  to 
fall,  crying  out:  "I  can  give  no  more  orders,  my  brave 
boys.  Do  your  best!"  But  soon  there  was  no  more 
fire  from  the  log  breastworks ;  the  Indians  swarmed  into 
the  rude  fort,  and  it  was  all  over  with  Major  Dade's 
battalion. 

Although  the  Seminoles  took  many  scalps,  they  left 
three  men  alive,  who  feigned  death,  and,  as  they  were 
bodily  wounded,  looked  as  if  they  had  suffered  the  fate 


OSCEOLA:  THE   SNAKE  375 

of  all.  One  of  them  was  shot  by  a  lurking  warrior  when 
he  tried  to  get  away.  The  other  two,  however,  crawled 
off  towards  Fort  Brooke,  sixty-five  miles  through  the 
Everglades,  and  one  of  them  reached  this  ha*ven  of 
refuge.  The  third  was  shot  by  a  Seminole.  When 
news  of  the  annihilation  of  Dade's  men  reached  civiliza 
tion,  it  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  the  entire  country, 
and  made  the  whites  more  determined  than  ever  to 
annihilate  the  followers  of  Osceola. 

This  chief,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  sworn  vengeance 
against  General  Thompson  for  throwing  him  in  irons, 
and  now  was  to  have  his  oath  fulfilled.  The  General 
was,  on  December  28th,  dining  with  nine  other  gentle 
men  at  the  storehouse  of  Mr.  Rogers,  two  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  from  Fort  King.  As  the  weather  was  mild, 
doors  and  windows  were  thrown  open  wide.  The  repast 
was  a  good  one,  wine  was  upon  the  table,  and  it  is  said 
that  one  officer  had  proposed  a  toast:  "To  the  speedy 
capture  of  that  knave  Osceola  and  a  termination  of  the 
war."  No  sooner  had  the  words  left  him  than  a  volley 
rang  out.  The  officer  dropped  to  the  ground,  mortally 
wounded;  a  wild  yell  sounded  in  the  ears  of  those  who 
survived  this  sudden  and  unexpected  assault,  and 
Osceola  bounded  into  the  room,  followed  by  a  dozen 
warriors. 

At  the  first  fire,  General  Thompson  had  been  struck 
and  had  fallen  prostrate  to  the  ground.  Leaping  to  his 
bleeding  form,  Osceola  scalped  him,  held  his  hand  aloft, 
and  uttered  a  yell  of  triumph  which  was  long  remem 
bered  by  all  who  heard  it.  Five  others  lay  dead  upon 
the  ground.  Those  who  were  not  killed  leaped  from 


376         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  windows  and  fled.  Five  of  them,  who  were  fortunate 
enough  to  start  towards  the  fort,  escaped:  but  the  others, 
who  dashed  towards  a  sheltering  hill  of  sand,  near  by, 
were  shot  down  by  the  skillful  Seminoles.  The  cook, 
who  was  a  negro  woman,  crouched  behind  a  barrel  in 
a  dark  corner,  and  was  so  thoroughly  protected  by  her 
color  that  she  was  not  seen  by  Osceola,  who,  pausing 
for  a  moment  to  take  another  scalp,  darted  out  again, 
uttering  a  peculiarly  shrill  and  piercing  yell,  so  that 
those  in  the  fort  might  know  who  was  the  leader  of  this 
bloody  attack.  His  vengeance  had  been  complete. 

After  this  tragic  affair  the  war  continued  as  before. 
The  Seminoles  increased  in  numbers,  through  additions 
of  runaway  negroes  and  criminals  from  the  Creeks  and 
other  tribes  adjoining.  Their  strength  seemed  to  be 
greater  than  usual,  and,  when  driven  into  a  corner, 
they  fought  like  wildcats,  without  any  thought  of  sur 
render.  All  Florida  was  in  a  panic  of  fear.  The  fugi 
tives  from  Seminole  wrath  were  reduced  to  such  sore 
straits  that  Congress  passed  a  bill  to  send  them  food 
and  clothing  until  peace  could  be  declared.  To  such 
extremities  was  the  Government  driven,  that  a  force  of 
one  thousand  Southern  and  Western  Indians  was  en 
listed  to  help  subjugate  the  dreaded  Seminoles. 

In  the  last  days  of  October,  1837,  a  solitary  Indian 
was  one  day  seen  in  the  edge  of  the  timber  before  Fort 
Peyton.  He  held  up  his  hand  in  token  of  peace,  and, 
being  allowed  to  approach  nearer,  said:  "I  have  a 
talk  from  Osceola  to  Big  Chief." 

"What  does  he  want?"  asked  the  sentry  who  had 
challenged  him. 


OSCEOLA:  THE   SNAKE  377 

"He  not  far  off.  Wish  to  speak  with  Big  Chief 
Jessup"  (the  commander  of  this  stockade). 

"I  will  give  him  Osceola's  message/'  said  the  sentry. 

When  General  Jessup  heard  that  the  savage  Seminole 
was  near  by,  he  immediately  devised  a  scheme  for  cap 
turing  him.  Finding  that  he  could  not  entice  him  into 
the  fort,  he  ordered  one  of  his  officers,  with  over  a  hun 
dred  soldiers,  to  seize  the  Seminole  chief,  under  cloak 
of  a  flag  of  truce.  This  sharp  trick  was  successfully 
operated,  and,  although  it  was  a  piece  of  the  most 
flagrant  treachery,  the  wily  enemy  to  white  government 
was  at  last  secured.  The  affair  is  a  perpetual  stain  upon 
the  honor  of  the  United  States. 

In  spite  of  his  vigorous  protests,  Osceola  was  sent  to 
St.  Augustine  and  afterwards  confined  in  the  dungeon 
at  Fort  Moultrie,  Charleston,  South  Carolina.  Crushed 
by  the  humiliating  position  to  which  he  had  sunk,  and 
brooding  over  the  misfortunes  of  his  race,  he  pined  away 
and  died  within  a  year.  The  war  kept  on  as  vigorously 
as  before,  and  did  not  terminate  until  1842.  Then  the 
great  bulk  of  the  Seminoles  was  sent  beyond  the 
Mississippi,  and  a  few,  who  were  harmless,  were  allowed 
to  remain  in  Florida. 

The  skeletons  of  the  unfortunate  soldiers  who  fell 
with  the  gallant  Major  Dade  were  collected,  and  buried 
in  St.  Augustine  with  appropriate  ceremonies.  A 
monument  was  erected  to  the  memory  of  these  coura 
geous  men.  At  West  Point  is  also  another  monument, 
the  inscription  upon  which  reads: 

"To  commemorate  the  Battle  of  the  28th  of  Decem 
ber,  Between  a  Detachment  of  108  U.  S.  Troops  and  the 


378         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Seminole  Indians,  of  Florida,  In  which  all  the  Detach 
ment  Save  Three  Fell  Without  an  Attempt  to  Retreat." 
All  honor  to  these  brave  men  who,  dying  with  their 
face  to  the  foe,  nobly  upheld  the  finest  traditions  of  the 
army  of  the  United  States! 


ROMAN  NOSE:  THE  OUSTER  OF  THE 
CHEYENNES 

AjL  the  world  admires  a  brave  man,  whether  he 
be  of  red,  black,  or  yellow  complexion.  All  the 
world  respects  the  leader  of  a  gallant  cavalry 
charge,  whether  it  be  successful  or  not.  The  British 
leader  of  the  heroic  600  has  been  celebrated  in  both 
prose  and  poetry.  The  gallant  Von  Bredow  of  the 
Franco-Prussian  War;  the  fearless  Ouster;  the  impetu 
ous  Farnsworth  of  Gettsyburg  fame,  have  all  had  their 
stories  told  by  scores  of  writers;  but  here  is  the  story 
of  an  Indian  who  led  as  fierce  a  gallop  as  that  of  the 
courageous  British  squadrons  at  Balaklava,  and  it  is 
a  tale  which  should  live  as  long  as  that  of  any  of  the 
other  heroes  of  sabre,  spur,  and  cuirass,  whose  names 
adorn  the  most  exciting  pages  of  history.  All  honor  to 
Roman  Nose,  the  intrepid  leader  of  the  Cheyennes, 
whose  mad  gallop  across  the  alkali  wastes  of  the 
Arikaree  Valley  in  the  spring  of  1868  has  had  but  little 
recognition  by  writers  of  stirring  deeds  and  desperate 
attacks ! 

Two  years  before  the  conflict  between  the  followers 
of  Roman  Nose  and  the  soldiers  of  the  United  •  States 
Government,  a  council  was  held  near  Fort  Ellsworth. 
Kansas,  between  General  Palmer  and  the  head  men  of  the 
Cheyenne  tribe  of  Indians.  The  conquest  of  the  Ameri- 

379 


380         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

can  continent  had  begun.  The  steel  rails  of  the  Pacific 
Railway  were  being  laid  across  the  hunting  grounds 
of  the  red  men,  and  they,  considering  and  believing  the 
ground  to  be  their  own,  had  come  to  protest  against  this 
invasion  of  their  soil. 

As  the  General  in  command  of  the  post  listened  to  the 
words  of  the  chiefs,  suddenly  a  noble-looking  Indian 
stood  up  and  advanced  in  a  solemn  and  majestic  manner 
to  the  centre  of  the  chamber  in  which  the  council  was 
held.  It  was  Roman  Nose:  one  of  the  finest  specimens 
of  the  untamed  savage.  His  physique  was  superb.  A 
large  head,  with  strongly  marked  features,  lighted  by 
a  pair  of  fierce  black  eyes,  a  large  mouth  with  thin 
lips,  through  which  gleamed  rows  of  strong,  white  teeth; 
a  Roman  nose,  with  delicate  nostrils  like  those  of  a 
thoroughbred  race-horse,  first  attracted  attention;  while 
a  broad  chest,  with  symmetrical  limbs,  on  which  the 
muscles  on  the  bronze  of  the  skin  stood  out  like  twisted 
wire,  were  some  of  the  marked  characteristics  of  this 
splendid  American  savage.  Clad  in  buckskin  leggins 
and  moccasins,  elaborately  embroidered  with  beads 
and  feathers,  with  a  single  eagle  feather  in  his  scalp- 
lock,  and  a  rare  robe  of  white  buffalo,  beautifully  tanned 
and  as  soft  as  cashmere,  thrown  over  his  shoulders — he 
stood  forth — the  mighty  war  chief  of  the  Cheyennes — 
and  said  in  measured  tones: 

"We  will  not  have  the  wagons  which  make  a  noise 
(steam  engines)  in  the  hunting  grounds  of  the  buffalo. 
If  the  palefaces  come  farther  into  our  land,  there  will  be 
scalps  of  your  brethren  in  the  wigwams  of  the  Chey 
ennes.  I  have  spoken." 


Courtesy  of  the  bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  Smithsonian  Institute. 
ROMAN    NOSE. 


ROMAN  NOSE  381 

But,  in  spite  of  what  the  noble-looking  chieftain  had 
said,  the  white  settlers  continued  to  push  into  the 
sacred  precincts  of  the  Cheyennes,  to  take  up  homes 
there,  and  to  treat  the  red  men  as  if  they  had  neither 
right  nor  title  to  the  soil.  The  Indians  were  soon  upon 
the  warpath.  Under  Roman  Nose  and  Black  Kettle, 
they  swept  through  western  Kansas  like  a  whirlwind  of 
vindictive  ferocity.  They  fought  the  gangs  of  work 
men  engaged  in  the  duty  of  laying  the  rails  for  the  hated 
Kansas  Pacific  Railroad;  attacked  the  isolated  home 
steads  of  the  adventurous  squatters;  ruthlessly  slaugh 
tered  men,  women  and  children,  and  ran  off  cattle, 
sheep,  and  horses.  From  June  to  December,  1868,  they 
murdered  one  hundred  and  fifty-four  white  settlers  and 
freighters;  captured  between  thirty  and  forty  women 
and  children;  burned  and  sacked  twenty-four  farm 
houses;  and  attacked  several  stagecoaches  and  wagon 
trains.  Great  excitement  existed  along  the  border 
settlements  of  Kansas  and  Colorado.  Appeals  were 
made  to  the  authorities  of  the  general  government  to 
give  protection  against  the  terrible  Cheyennes,  or  else 
allow  the  people  to  take  matters  into  their  own  hands 
and  revenge  themselves  against  their  hereditary  enemies. 
General  Sheridan,  then  in  command  of  that  military 
department,  was  fully  alive  to  the  responsibilities  of 
his  position,  and,  in  his  usual  decisive  manner,  set 
about  the  task  of  crippling  the  wild  riders  of  the 
plains. 

In  order  to  punish  these  bloodthirsty  Cheyennes,  the 
celebrated  Sheridan  had  not  the  necessary  number  of 
troops.  Congress,  however,  had  authorized  the  em- 


332         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

ployment  of  detachments  of  frontier  scouts  to  be  re 
cruited  from  the  daring  spirits  always  to  be  met  with 
upon  the  border.  So  the  General  was  only  too  ready 
to  listen  to  the  request  of  one  of  his  young  officers, 
Major  George  A.  Forsyth,  who  asked  him  to  grant  him 
permission  to  raise  a  body  of  scouts,  independent  of  the 
regular  army.  After  listening  quietly  to  what  For 
syth  had  to  say,  Sheridan  remarked: 

"I  have  determined  to  organize  a  scouting  party  of 
fifty  men  from  among  the  frontiersmen  living  here  on 
the  border.  There  is  no  law  that  will  permit  me  to 
enlist  them,  and  I  can  only  employ  them  as  scouts 
through  the  quartermaster's  department.  I  will  offer 
them  a  dollar  a  day,  and  thirty-five  cents  a  day  for  the 
use  of  their  horses,  which  will,  I  think,  bring  good  ma 
terial.  Of  course,  the  government  will  equip  them, 
and  they  will  draw  soldier's  rations.  If  you  care  for 
the  command,  you  can  have  it,  and  I  will  give  you 
Lieutenant  Fred  Beecher,  of  the  Third  Infantry,  for  your 
second  in  command." 

"Thank  you,  General,"  was  Forsyth's  answer.  "I 
accept  the  command  with  pleasure." 

"I  thought  you  would,"  said  Sheridan,  smiling. 
''And  yet  I  hesitated  to  offer  it.  Understand  if  I  had 
anything  better,  you  should  have  it." 

"  I  am  glad  to  get  this,"  was  the  reply  of  the  gallant 
Major. 

There  was  little  difficulty  in  obtaining  capable  men 
for  the  new  command.  There  were  hundreds  of  Civil 
War  veterans  upon  the  frontier,  while  many  a  plainsman 
was  only  too  ready  to  have  an  opportunity  of  getting 


ROMAN  NOSE  383 

even  with  the  wild  riders  of  the  West.  In  fact,  men 
had  to  be  turned  away,  so  eagerly  did  recruits  flock  to 
the  standard  of  the  Original  Rough  Rider.  In  two  days, 
Forsyth — who  had  been  with  Sheridan  in  his  famous 
ride  from  Winchester  to  Cedar  Creek — had  enrolled 
thirty  men  at  Fort  Harker.  Sixty  miles  westward  was 
Fort  Hayes,  where  twenty  more  were  obtained  two 
days  later,  so  that  in  five  days  from  the  time  that 
Forsyth  had  been  given  the  command,  he  was  marching 
into  the  Indian  country  at  the  head  of  as  brave  a  body 
of  plainsmen  as  ever  swung  a  rifle  across  their  shoulders. 
They  were  looking  for  trouble,  and  they  found  it. 

Roman  Nose  and  his  Cheyennes  were  known  to  be 
somewhere  near  the  Republican  River,  northwest  of 
Fort  Hayes,  and,  as  the  little  troop  scouted  northwards, 
there  were  frequent  indications  of  large  camps  of  In 
dians  which  had  been  abandoned  only  a  few  days  before 
the  arrival  of  the  command.  On  the  morning  of  Sep 
tember  10th.,  a  small  war  party  of  savages  attacked 
a  train  near  Sheridan,  a  tiny  railroad  town  some  eighty 
miles  beyond  Fort  Wallace,  another  fort  where  Forsyth 
had  stopped  to  rest  his  men.  They  had  killed  two 
teamsters  and  had  run  off  a  few  cattle. 

Immediately  Forsyth's  Rough  Riders  were  upon  the 
trail  of  these  Indians,  and  followed  it  until  darkness 
put  an  end  to  all  pursuit.  Next  morning  the  chase 
was  continued,  the  trail  grew  continually  larger,  and 
finally  developed  into  a  broad,  well-beaten  road,  lead 
ing  up  the  Arickaree  fork  of  the  Republican  River.  It 
was  evident  that  a  large  number  of  Indians  was  ahead, 
but  Forsyth  had  come  out  to  fight,  not  to  run  away, 


384         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

so  he  pressed  hard  after  the  retreating  band.  As  dark 
ness  fell  on  the  evening  of  the  eighth  day  from  Fort 
Wallace,  the  command  was  halted  and  went  into  camp 
near  a  little  sandy  island  in  the  river:  a  mere  sandspit 
of  earth  formed  by  the  shallow  stream  as  it  divided  and 
then  came  together  again  about  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  place  of  parting.  The  water  was  only  about  eight 
feet  wide  and  two  or  three  inches  deep. 

During  the  last  three  days  of  the  march,  game  had 
been  very  scarce,  which  convinced  the  soldiers  that 
the  Indians,  whose  trail  they  were  following,  had  scoured 
the  country  with  their  hunting  parties,  and  had  driven 
off  every  kind  of  wild  animal.  Provisions  were  getting 
low.  The  day  following  would  see  the  command 
nearly  out  of  supplies  of  all  kinds.  But  Forsyth  was 
called  "  Sandy,"  because  of  his  grit  and  nerve,  and  he 
determined  to  push  on  after  the  redskins  until  he  found 
them,  and  to  fight  them  even  if  he  could  not  whip  them, 
in  order  that  they  might  realize  that  the  Government 
was  in  earnest  when  it  said  that  the  marauders  of  the 
peaceful  settlements  were  to  be  punished. 

The  first  flush  of  dawn  was  reddening  the  sky  next 
morning,  when  Forsyth,  who  was  awake,  suddenly 
caught  sight  of  something  moving  stealthily  by  upon 
the  horizon.  At  the  same  moment  the  sentry  saw  it, 
and  cocking  their  rifles,  the  two  soldiers  gazed  intently 
into  the  dim  distance.  Suddenly  the  soft  thud  of  gal 
loping  hoofs  came  to  their  ears,  and,  peering  just  above 
the  crest  of  rising  ground  between  themselves  and  the 
horizon,  they  caught  sight  of  the  waving  feathers  upon 
the  scalplocks  of  three  mounted  warriors.  In  an  instant 


ROMAN  NOSE  385 

their  rifles  spoke  in  unison,  and  with  the  cry  of  "Indians! 
Turn  out!  Indians!"  they  ran  back  to  the  camp.  In 
a  second  it  was  in  confusion.  Men  jumped  to  their 
feet  and  seized  their  rifles,  as  with  a  loud  shouting, 
beating  of  Indian  drums,  and  rattling  of  dried  hides, 
about  a  dozen  redskins  galloped  down  upon  the  camp  in 
the  apparent  endeavor  to  stampede  the  horses.  Crack! 
crack!  sounded  the  well-aimed  rifles  of  the  scouts,  and, 
as  the  Indians  sheered  off,  carrying  with  them  three  of 
the  pack  mules,  one  of  their  number  dropped  to  the 
turf. 

"Saddle  up!  Saddle  up,  quickly,  men!"  was  the 
next  order,  and,  in  a  very  few  moments,  the  horses  were 
saddled  and  bridled,  while  every  man  stood  ready  to 
mount.  Daylight  had  begun  to  appear  by  now,  so  that 
one  could  see  objects  within  a  few  hundred  yards;  when 
suddenly  an  old-time  scout,  who  stood  next  to  Forsyth, 
put  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and  cried :  ' '  Oh,  heavens, 
General!  Look  at  the  Indians!" 

Forsyth 's  heart  sank  to  his  boots  as  his  eye  followed 
the  direction  of  the  scout's  outstretched  hand.  For 
the  ground  seemed  literally  to  sprout  Indians.  They 
apparently  jumped  from  the  sod  itself,  and  over  the 
rolling  hills,  out  of  the  thickets,  from  the  bed  of  the 
stream,  along  the  opposite  bank,  and  out  of  the  long 
grass  upon  every  side,  hundreds  of  redskins — with  shrill 
cries  of  vindictive  hatred — rushed  down  upon  the  fifty 
scouts,  standing  immobile  at  their  horses'  heads. 
"Fire!"  shouted  Forsyth,  when  a  few  of  the  red  men 
came  quite  close,  and,  as  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rifles 
spat  at  the  yelping  braves,  several  ponies  went  down. 


386         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

The  Indians  fell  back,  out  of  range,  and  a  few  moments 
were  given  to  the  cool-headed  United  States  officer  to 
perfect  plans  for  a  retreat. 

After  a  moment's  hesitation  he  shouted  his  orders: 
"Lead  your  horses  to  the  little  island.  Form  a  circle 
fronting  outwards!  Throw  yourselves  upon  the  ground 
and  intrench  yourselves  as  rapidly  as  you  can!" 

No  sooner  had  he  ceased  speaking  than,  in  almost  a 
solid  mass,  the  scouts  retreated  to  the  island,  keeping 
up  a  vigorous  fusillade  upon  the  surrounding  Indians. 
On  the  left,  down  the  stream,  a  way  to  escape  lay  open 
through  the  little  gorge  up  which  the  command  had 
marched,  but  Forsyth  knew  enough  of  Indian  tactics  to 
realize  that  the  savages  would  line  these  bluffs  with 
warriors.  Once  upon  the  island,  and  they  would  have 
to  attack  over  open  ground.  Intrenched  in  this  position, 
the  soldiers  had  an  even  chance  of  standing  off  this 
overwhelming  mass  of  Indians,  who,  realizing  that  they 
had  the  white  men  in  their  power,  rode  around  the 
brave  little  army  with  yells  of  derision,  and  shot  at  them 
repeatedly  as  they  broke  into  a  run  in  order  to  get  to 
the  chosen  position.  A  steady  and  galling  fire  poured 
in  upon  the  scouts  from  the  reeds  and  long  grass.  Horses 
fell  to  the  earth  on  all  sides.  One  man  was  killed, 
several  were  badly  wounded.  Enfuriated  at  their 
blunder  in  not  seizing  the  island  before  the  whites  had 
a  chance  to  reach  it,  the  various  chiefs  rode  rapidly 
around,  just  out  of  rifle  range,  and  yelled  to  their 
dismounted  warriors  to  close  in  on  all  sides.  The 
steady  crack  of  rifles  sounded  everywhere;  the  horses 
reared  and  plunged  at  their  tethers;  men  cursed  and 


ROMAN  NOSE  387 

groaned;  the  Indians  howled  savagely,  and  above  the 
frightful  melee  could  be  heard  the  calm  commands  of 
Forsyth : 

"Steady,  men!  Steady,  now!  Aim  low.  Don't  throw 
away  a  shot!" 

At  this  thrilling  moment,  and  as  the  men  with  tin- 
cups,  pocketknives,  and  tin  dishes,  were  shovelling  up 
enough  of  the  gravelly  soil  to  form  a  rude  protection,  one 
of  the  plainsmen  shouted: 

" Don't  let's  stay  here  and  be  shot  down  like  dogs! 
Will  any  man  try  for  the  opposite  bank  with  me?" 

"I  will,"  cried  out  a  man  upon  the  other  side  of  the 
circle. 

"Stay  where  you  are,  men.  It's  your  only  chance!" 
called  Forsyth,  as  he  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  command, 
revolver  in  hand.  "I'll  shoot  down  any  man  who  at 
tempts  to  leave  the  island." 

"And  so  will  I,"  shouted  McCall,  the  first  sergeant. 

"Get  down  to  your  work,  men!  Don't  shoot  unless 
you  can  see  something  to  hit.  Don't  throw  away  your 
ammunition,  for  your  lives  may  depend  on  how  we 
husband  it!"  again  cried  Forsyth.  And,  as  there  was 
a  temporary  lull  in  the  fight — many  Indians  having 
fallen  to  the  rear  of  their  line,  badly  wounded — the 
scouts  grew  cool  and  determined,  vigorously  dug  into 
the  sand  with  their  knives  and  plates,  and  soon  had  a 
good-sized  barricade  thrown  up.  Indian  women  and 
children  now  covered  the  bluffs  back  of  the  valley,  on 
the  north  side  of  the  stream,  and  their  shouts  and 
wailing  showed  that  many  a  redskin  warrior  had  been 
sent  to  the  Happy  Hunting  Grounds. 


388         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Meanwhile  one  stalwart  warrior  of  magnificent 
physique  and  noble  countenance  carefully  watched 
the  circle  of  scouts  from  a  hillock  down  the  winding 
course  of  the  Arickaree.  It  was  Roman  Nose — head 
chief  of  the  Cheyennes — his  face  painted  in  alternate 
lines  of  red  and  black;  his  body  naked,  save  for  a  red 
scarf  about  his  waist;  his  head  crowned  with  a  mag 
nificent  war  bonnet,  from  which,  just  above  the  temples 
and  curving  slightly  forward,  stood  up  two  short,  black 
buffalo  horns.  A  long  tail  of  eagles'  feathers  and  herons' 
plumes  waved  gracefully  from  the  back  of  his  head, 
while  a  beautiful  chestnut  pony,  held  by  a  single  deer 
thong,  pawed  the  earth  beneath  the  supple  frame  of  the 
chieftain. 

For  days  this  intelligent  war  chief  had  seen  and 
watched  Forsyth's  scouts  as  they  followed  the  trail  of 
his  warriors.  A  few  miles  beyond,  he  had  prepared  an 
ambuscade  for  them,  so,  if  they  had  not  camped  where 
they  were,  they  would  all  have  been  undoubtedly 
annihilated.  There  were  Northern  Cheyennes,  Oglala 
and  Brule  Sioux,  a  few  Arapahoes,  and  a  number  of 
dog,  or  renegade  soldiers  composing  this  savage  army. 
In  all  there  were  almost  one  thousand  warriors,  accom 
panied  by  their  squaws  and  children,  who  were  eager  to 
see  the  annihilation  of  the  white  men  and  the  triumph 
of  their  brothers,  husbands,  and  fathers.  Just  think 
of  it!  One  thousand  to  fifty,  and  those  fifty  without 
food,  without  horses,  and  hemmed  in  upon  a  tiny  island 
which  could  be  easily  reached,  across  only  a  few  inches 
of  water!  But  such  a  fifty  had  not  been  seen  since  the 
time  of  the  Greeks  who  held  the  pass  at  Thermopylae. 


ROMAN  NOSE  389 

Listen,  and  hear  how  they  made  one  of  the  most  desperate 
stands  of  history! 

Roman  Nose  was  furious  with  anger,  because  he  had 
told  his  men  to  occupy  the  island,  and  they  had  not 
done  so.  But  he  was  confident  that  he  could  soon 
crush  the  white  men,  even  as  members  of  his  tribe  had 
annihilated  Fetterman's  command,  a  few  years  before, 
near  Fort  Phil  Kearney,  in  Wyoming.  Summoning 
his  leading  chiefs  to  him,  he  pointed  out  to  them  the 
proper  position  to  place  the  warriors  in,  so  as  to  get  the 
best  possible  line  of  fire  upon  the  entrenched  camp; 
and,  explaining  to  them  that,  while  a  number  of  them 
kept  the  whites  at  bay,  fully  five  hundred  should  as 
semble  around  the  bend  in  the  river  and  prepare  for  a 
cavalry  charge,  he  himself  trotted  his  horse  down  the 
bed  of  the  stream,  well  beyond  the  view  of  the  defenders 
of  the  little  island. 

The  clear  atmosphere  of  a  bright  September  day 
gave  just  the  proper  light  for  accurate  rifle  fire.  A 
steady  rain  of  bullets  fell  against  the  sides  of  the  little 
mounds  which  the  Rough  Riders  of  '68  had  erected, 
but  the  scouts  only  returned  the  shots  when  they  saw 
an  opportunity  to  effectively  use  their  cartridges. 
Many  a  badly  wounded  brave  could  be  seen  crawling 
over  the  plain  to  a  place  of  safety,  while  the  wails  and 
shrieks  of  the  women  on  the  bluffs  sounded  harshly 
discordant  above  the  rattle  of  small  arms.  The  horses 
were  groaning  in  the  agonies  of  death,  and,  as  the  last 
animal  fell  to  the  ground,  one  of  the  savages  cried  out 
in  English:  " There  goes  the  last  horse  anyhow!" 
which  proved  that  some  white  renegade  was  in  the 


390         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

ranks  of  the  Sioux,  Arapahoes,  and  Cheyennes.  For- 
syth,  who  had  been  walking  about  among  his  men 
giving  directions  and  commands,  now  lay  down  behind 
a  gravel  mound,  and,  as  he  did  so,  a  shot  hit  him  in  the 
fore  part  of  the  thigh,  and  ranging  upward,  made  it  im 
possible  for  him  to  stand  upon  his  feet.  "Are  you 
alive!"  shouted  several  of  the  men,  knowing  that  he  was 
dangerously  injured.  "Yes,  I'm  all  right,"  called  out 
their  commander  cheerfully,  but,  as  he  spoke,  the  fire 
from  several  Indians  who  had  crawled  up  upon  the  lower 
end  of  the  island  made  him  lie  down  close  to  the  gravelly 
soil.  Three  of  the  plainsmen  saw  the  flash  of  one  of  the 
rifles  from  the  centre  of  a  little  bush,  and,  taking  accurate 
aim,  sent  a  bullet  crashing  into  the  skull  of  the  Indian 
brave.  A  wild,  half-smothered  shriek  welled  up  from 
the  sagebrush,  showing  that  another  redskin  had  gone 
to  the  land  of  the  hereafter. 

But  Forsyth  was  now  struck  again,  the  bullet  shatter 
ing  his  leg  bone  about  midway  between  the  knee  and 
the  ankle.  A  few  moments  later  he  rashly  exposed 
his  head,  and  one  of  the  Sioux  riflemen  immediately 
drew  a  bead  upon  it  and  sent  a  bullet  through  the  top 
of  his  soft  felt  hat,  which  fortunately  had  a  high  crown, 
so  it  glanced  off,  ripped  through  the  skin  of  his  head  and 
fractured  his  skull.  In  spite  of  these  grievous  wounds, 
the  brave  soldier  kept  both  his  nerve  and  his  courage, 
and,  seizing  a  rifle,  took  a  shot  at  some  Indians  who 
dashed  up  on  horseback  within  rifle  range.  The  Doctor, 
who  had  been  closely  watching  them,  took  a  quick  shot 
at  the  foremost,  and,  as  he  dropped  from  his  pony's 
back,  cried  out:  "That  rascally  redskin  will  not  trouble 


ROMAN  NOSE  391 

us  again."  Immediately  afterwards  a  dull  thud  told 
Forsyth  that  someone  near  by  had  been  hit,  and, 
turning  around,  he  saw  the  Doctor  fall  upon  the 
sand,  saying:  "I'm  done  for  this  time."  A  bullet 
had  entered  his  forehead  just  above  the  eye,  and  the 
wound  was  a  mortal  one.  He  never  spoke  another 
rational  word,  and  lingered  for  three  days  before 
dying. 

At  this  moment,  trotting  up  the  bed  of  the  river,  ap 
peared  the  wild  cavalry  of  Roman  Nose,  five  hundred 
in  all,  and  in  about  eight  ranks  of  sixty  front,  extended 
order.  Before  them  all,  upon  a  magnificent  chestnut 
horse,  rode  Roman  Nose  himself;  his  Springfield  rifle 
grasped  in  his  right  hand,  and  naked,  save  for  his  war- 
bonnet,  silken  scarf,  moccasins  and  cartridge  belt.  A 
bugle  rang  out  from  somewhere  in  their  midst,  a  bugle 
which  had  been  either  captured  or  stolen  from  the 
whites,  and  which  some  renegade,  or  half-breed,  knew 
how  to  use;  and  to  the  shrilling  note  of  this  instrument, 
the  savage  horde  came  on. 

From  the  hair  of  the  Indians  fluttered  eagle  feathers 
and  plumes  of  the  white  herons,  which  are  sometimes 
seen  along  the  rivers  of  the  great  West.  Their  faces 
were  painted  black,  with  red  and  yellow  stripes  running 
horizontally.  They  were  naked,  save  for  moccasins  and 
cartridge  belts;  while  each  held  a  rifle  in  his  hand,  and 
had  a  tomahawk  and  knife  stuck  into  his  belt,  for  close, 
hand-to-hand  \vork.  Their  ponies  were  of  every  color, 
shade,  and  description,  but  were  fat  and  in  good  con 
dition,  for  the  bunch  grass  was  plentiful  in  the  country 
watered  by  the  branches  of  the  Republican.  Some 


392          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

had  lariats  of  buffalo  thongs  wound  around  them, 
while  each  was  held  by  a  single  strand  looped  around  the 
under  lip.  Roman  Nose  was  about  five  paces  in  front 
of  the  centre  of  the  line,  while  slightly  in  advance  of 
the  left  of  the  oncoming  column  was  the  medicine  man, 
an  equally  brave,  but  older  chieftain.  Savage  cries  of 
encouragement  sounded  from  the  bluffs,  where  the 
women  and  children  were  standing  by  thousands,  to 
watch  the  annihilation  of  the  whites,  and,  as  they 
echoed  across  the  rolling  prairie,  Roman  Nose  waved 
his  hand  to  them  assuringly.  Then  turning  towards  the 
breastworks  upon  the  island,  he  shook  his  clinched 
fist  in  savage  defiance  at  the  enemies  of  his  country, 
and  raising  himself  to  his  full  height,  struck  the  palm 
of  his  hand  across  his  mouth  as  he  uttered  a  wild,  piercing 
battle  cry.  Each  warrior  answered  it ;  even  those  lying 
in  ambush  near  the  river's  edge  took  up  the  blood 
curdling  slogan. 

When  Wellington  saw  Ney's  cuirassiers  debouching 
from  the  huts  upon  the  hill  of  La  Belle  Alliance,  he  gave 
the  order  to  form  in  hollow  squares,  and  said:  " Re 
serve  your  fire  until  you  can  do  damage,  and  make  every 
shot  count.  Never  give  in  to  the  cavalry,  lads.  What 
will  they  think  of  this  in  England?"  With  cool,  Anglo- 
Saxon  courage  the  men  of  the  North  met  the  furious 
charge  of  the  soldiers  of  France  without  wincing.  Eight 
attacks  failed  to  break  the  devoted  squares  at  Waterloo. 
It  was  this  that  saved  the  day  for  England  and  her 
allies.  Here,  thousands  of  miles  away,  were  men  of  the 
same  birth  and  breeding  as  those  who  stemmed  the 
onslaught  upon  the  plateau  of  Mount  St.  Jean,  and, 


ROMAN   NOSE  393 

although  they  were  to  be  charged  by  enemies  that 
outnumbered  them  tenfold,  they  prepared  for  the  fray 
with  the  same  bulldog  determination  which  actuated 
the  redcoats  at  Waterloo.  "The  Indians  are  going  to 
charge  us,"  called  out  Lieutenant  Beecher.  "You  are 
right,"  was  Forsyth's  reply.  "Let  the  men  get  ready. 
Six  shots  in  each  rifle  magazine,  and  one  in  the  barrel. 
Have  the  revolvers  loaded  and  ready,  and  never,  under 
any  circumstances,  fire  at  the  Indians  until  I  give  the 
word  of  command!  We  can  break  their  line.  Of  that 
I  am  certain.  Only  steady,  men,  steady,  and  do  not 
waste  a  single  shot!" 

As  he  ceased  speaking,  the  gallant  leader  propped 
himself  up  in  his  rifle  pit,  placed  his  rifle  and  revolver 
before  him,  and  calmly  waited  for  the  onrush  of  the 
followers  of  Roman  Nose.  And  with  a  wild,  earsplitting 
yell  they  came  on.  A  withering  fire  poured  in  from  the 
redskins  in  ambush,  so  that,  for  eight  or  ten  seconds  it 
fairly  rained  bullets.  Then  came  a  sudden  lull,  as  the 
gallant  five  hundred  thundered  up  the  ravine  towards 
the  defenders  of  the  island.  They  came  nearer,  nearer. 
Now  they  were  within  a  hundred  yards,  and  the  ex 
pressions  on  their  painted  faces  could  be  plainly  seen. 
It  was  the  time  for  action, — a  moment  which  Forsyth 
fully  realized. 

Sitting  up  in  his  rifle  pit  as  well  as  he  was  able,  and 
leaning  backwards  upon  his  elbows,  the  grim  and  de 
termined  officer  shouted,  "Now!" 

Instantly  the  scouts  scrambled  to  their  knees,  with 
their  rifles  at  their  shoulders.  Each  man  looked  care 
fully  along  the  barrel  of  his  piece;  and  then  a  ringing 


394         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

volley  sounded  above  the  wild  yelping  of  the  painted 
followers  of  Roman  Nose:  the  courageous. 

Crash! 

On  came  the  red  warriors,  screeching  like  a  pack  of 
timber  wolves  in  the  season  of  greatest  hunger. 

Crash! 

In  the  centre  of  the  line,  a  dozen  ponies  went  down. 
Their  riders  fell  headlong  upon  the  turf,  but  the  rest 
did  not  falter.  The  Indians  were  now  but  sixty  yards 
from  the  breastworks. 

Crash! 

The  ponies  seemed  to  be  falling  over  one  another.  In 
heaps,  both  redskins  and  horses  lurched  headlong  into 
the  clear  waters  of  the  Arickaree.  Shrieks,  groans,  and 
savage  yelping  were  mingled  with  the  shrill  wails  of  the 
women  and  children  who  were  witness  to  this,  one  of 
the  most  glorious  charges  in  history. 

Crash! 

Great  gaps  began  to  show  in  the  ranks,  as  the  Indians 
came  within  fifty  yards  of  the  island  of  death.  On 
the  extreme  left  the  medicine  man  reeled  on  his  pony's 
back  and  fell  headlong  into  the  stream,  while  his  fol 
lowers  galloped  madly  over  his  prostrate  form.  Roman 
Nose,  with  a  loud  yell  of  defiance,  swung  his  Springfield 
rifle  over  his  head,  as  he  galloped  furiously  to  the  edge 
of  the  island.  He  reached  the  very  end  of  it,  when 

Crash! 

The  courageous  Indian  leader — the  Custer  of  the 
Cheyennes — staggered  and  reeled.  He  toppled  over. 
He  went  down  amidst  the  thunder  of  unshod  hoofs, 
and  prostrate  upon  the  sand  he  lay,  while  his  intrepid 


ROMAN   NOSE  395 

warriors  leaped  their  foaming  horses  across  his  bleeding 
form.  But  on,  on,  they  came,  while  the  cool-headed 
plainsmen  took  careful  and  deliberate  aim. 

Crash! 

The  Indians  were  now  galloping  upon  the  firm  soil 
of  the  island.  They  were  within  twenty  yards  of  their 
enemies.  They  began  to  stagger.  They  hesitated. 
They  faltered. 

Crash! 

The  seventh  volley  of  lead  swept  through  their  broken 
ranks,  and,  throwing  themselves  upon  the  off  side  of 
their  horses,  with  horrible  cries  of  disappointed  rage,  the 
great  wave  of  painted  warriors  broke,  divided,  and 
scattered  in  every  direction.  With  a  ringing  cheer, 
the  scouts  jumped  to  their  feet,  and,  seizing  their  re 
volvers,  poured  volley  after  volley  into  the  retreating 
and  demoralized  ranks  of  the  running  foe.  The  great 
charge  of  Roman  Nose  was  over;  the  impetuous  warrior 
lay  dead  upon  the  field  of  battle;  and  his  wild,  naked 
followers,  crazed  with  anger  and  disappointment,  col 
lected  in  groups,  just  out  of  rifle  range,  and  shook  their 
fists  vindictively  at  Forsyth's  devoted  band;  who,  again 
sinking  to  their  rifle  pits,  made  haste  to  load  for  the  at- 
tack  which  they  knew  would  shortly  come.  The  charge 
of  the  five  hundred  had  been  as  futile  as  the  wild  gallop 
of  the  six  hundred  British  hussars  at  Balaklava. 


This  was  not  all  of  the  battle,  but  it  was  all  of  Romar» 
Nose.  Twice  again  the  Indians  attempted  to  charge 
the  island,  but  they  were  easily  driven  away.  Two 


396         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

scouts,  meanwhile,  had  crawled  through  their  lines  from 
Forsyth's  command,  had  successfully  escaped  the 
watchful  eyes  of  the  Indians,  and  carried  news  of  the 
desperate  situation  to  the  United  States  troops  at  Fort 
Wallace,  Kansas,  some  hundred  miles  away.  Colonel 
Carpenter,  with  seventy  men  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry, 
seventeen  scouts,  and  an  ambulance,  immediately 
marched  to  the  rescue  of  the  gallant  Rough  Riders.  On 
the  morning  of  the  ninth  day  of  the  siege  of  the  island, 
one  of  the  weary  men  on  watch  suddenly  sprang  to  his 
feet,  shouting: 

"There  are  moving  men  on  the  hills."  Everyone 
who  was  strong  enough,  and  not  sufficiently  starved  out 
from  eating  mule  and  horse  meat,  jumped  up  in  an 
instant. 

"  By  Heavens !  There's  an  ambulance ! "  cried  Grover, 
the  oldest  scout.  The  Rough  Riders  of  '68  were  rescued 

at  last. 

********* 

When  Carpenter's  men  were  looking  for  the  besieged 
command  of  Sandy  Forsyth,  one  of  the  troopers  noticed 
something  white  in  a  small  valley  through  which  he 
was  scouting.  Calling  one  of  his  companions  to  him, 
they  galloped  up  to  it,  and  found  it  to  be  a  beautiful 
wigwam  made  of  freshly  tanned,  white  buffalo  skins. 
As  one  of  them  entered,  he  saw,  upon  a  brush  heap,  a 
human  figure,  wrapped  in  buffalo  robes.  Stripping  off 
the  covering,  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  body  of  a  splendid 
specimen  of  Indian  manhood.  Over  six  feet  in  height, 
the  savage  had  a  stern  and  royal  look,  a  majestic  brow,  a 
firm  and  placid  mouth,  a  magnificently  modelled 


ROMAN   NOSE  397 

torso,  and  limbs  like  whipcord.  Rich  garments  had 
clothed  him,  and  heavily  ornamented  weapons  were 
carefully  placed  near  by.  In  his  breast  was  a  deep, 
gaping  wound  from  a  bullet  which  had  pierced  his 
heart. 

"It  is  Roman  Nose,"  said  one  of  the  scouts.  "See 
the  face.  It  is  that  of  a  hero." 

On  the  return  from  the  rescue  of  Forsyth,  the  men 
stopped  at  the  lonely  tepee  in  the  valley.  The  arms 
and  equipment  were  appropriated,  as  the  legitimate 
spoils  of  war,  but  the  famed  war  chief  was  allowed  to 
sleep  on  undisturbed.  With  a  regard  for  his  great 
bravery,  the  frontiersmen  did  not  move  the  body  of 
the  courageous  warrior  from  its  bed  of  boughs.  Thus, 
alone,  unguarded,  and  unwatched,  the  remains  of  the 
invincible  Cheyenne  were  left  to  the  vultures  and 
lurking  gray  wolves:  the  scavengers  of  the  wide,  un 
touched  and  illimitable  plains. 


GERONIMO:  THE  TERRIBLE  APACHE 

A"1  the  inauguration  of  President  Theodore  Roose 
velt,  March  4,  1905,  an  aged  Indian  chieftain 
rode  in  the  procession,  clothed  in  rich  and  gaudy 
attire.  As  he  passed  by  the  reviewing  stand,  I  watched 
the  expression  upon  his  face.  It  was  stolid,  imper 
turbable,  sad,  and  as  he  looked  up  at  the  figure  of  the 
Chief  Executive  of  the  all-conquering  Anglo-Saxons, 
he  did  not  deign  to  give  him  a  nod  of  salutation.  With 
a  scowl  upon  his  countenance,  he  rode  up  the  broad 
avenue,  while  the  people  gazed  at  him  in  some  amaze 
ment.  It  was  the  renowned  Geronimo:  the  blood 
thirsty  Apache  chief. 

This  warrior  had  fought  in  many  a  desperate  encounter 
with  the  whites  of  Arizona  and  New  Mexico,  and,  be 
cause  of  his  strength  of  body  and  ability  to  live  in  a 
country  in  which  his  pursuers  could  scarcely  exist,  it 
was  many  years  before  he  was  eventually  captured. 
Physically  he  was  somewhat  "squatty,"  but  with  a 
tremendous  girth  of  chest.  His  muscles  were  as  hard 
as  bone,  so  hard  that  he  could  light  a  match  upon  the 
bottom  of  his  feet.  His  wants  were  few,  and  he  cared 
for  no  luxuries.  War  was  his  business,  his  life,  and 
victory  was  his  dream.  He  would  gladly  travel  hun 
dreds  of  miles  to  attack  a  Mexican  camp,  or  an  isolated 
village.  He  would  incur  every  risk  to  run  off  a  herd 
of  cattle,  mules,  or  sheep. 

398 


Courtesy  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  Smithsonian  Institute. 
GERONIMO. 


GERONIMO:  THE  APACHE        399 

Geronimo,  in  his  native  wilds,  wore  no  clothing  save 
a  narrow  piece  of  calico,  or  buckskin,  about  his  loins, 
a  headdress  also  of  buckskin,  crested  with  the  plumage 
of  the  wild  turkey  and  eagle,  and  long-legged  moccasins, 
held  at  the  waist  by  a  string,  and  turned  up  at  the  toes 
by  a  shield  which  protected  him  from  stones  and  from 
the  "cholla"  cactus.  If  he  felt  thirsty  when  on  the 
warpath,  he  knew  where  to  find  the  tiny  springs  and 
brooks  of  the  arid  wastes,  or,  if  he  could  find  no  water, 
he  would  put  a  stone  or  twig  in  his  mouth  in  order  to 
induce  a  flow  of  saliva.  With  this  as  a  stimulus,  he 
would  journey  onward  for  hours. 

This  crafty  warrior  would  pitch  his  bivouac  by  night 
fall  at  some  distance  from  any  spring,  where  his  pur 
suers  would  be  least  likely  to  look  for  him.  Generally 
it  would  be  upon  the  side  of  some  rocky  mountain,  along 
which  no  trail  would  be  left,  and  up  which  no  pursuing 
band  of  United  States  cavalrymen  could  ascend  without 
making  so  much  noise  that  they  would  wake  him  long 
before  they  were  near  enough  to  do  any  damage.  He 
was  familiar  with  every  ravine,  cavern,  canon,  defile, 
gorge,  and  place  which  was  inaccessible  to  horses.  When 
on  a  raid,  his  followers  often  lived  upon  rats,  mice, 
rabbits,  and  coyotes,  and,  if  very  hard  pressed,  killed  and 
ate  the  horses  which  they  were  mounted  upon.  No  wonder 
that  they  held  out  against  the  white  men  for  months 
after  any  other  Indian  tribe  would  have  been  annihilated. 

As  the  whites  took  up  ranches  and  settlements  in 
Arizona  and  New  Mexico,  there  was  continuous  diffi 
culty  with  the  Apaches.  Various  causes  led  to  a  final 
outbreak,  and,  much  as  one  may  regret  the  fact,  the 


400         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

actions  of  some  United  States  officers  who  were  on  the 
frontier  were  mainly  the  reason  for  Indian  hostility. 
The  Apaches  soon  instituted  a  reign  of  terror  in  the 
Southwest,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  cruelty  too 
atrocious  for  them  to  commit.  They  made  sudden 
and  daring  raids  upon  the  scattered  ranch  houses, 
burning  them  to  the  ground,  killing  the  inmates,  and 
carrying  off  the  sheep,  cows,  and  horses. 

One  day  a  ranchman  of  New  Mexico  was  returning 
from  a  distant  search  for  a  stray  heifer,  when,  upon 
mounting  a  hill  just  beyond  his  ranch  house,  he  saw 
flames  issuing  from  the  roof  and  windows  of  his  home. 
Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  galloped  up  to  the  front 
yard,  anxiously  looking  for  signs  of  his  family.  As  he 
did  so,  a  wild  yell  came  to  his  ears,  and  gazing  across 
the  plain,  he  saw  a  band  of  four  Apaches,  with  his  little 
son  in  their  arms.  Waving  their  hands  at  him  de 
fiantly,  they  soon  disappeared  beyond  the  sloping 
hillocks,  while  he,  terrified  and  horrified  at  this  un 
looked-for  assault,  hastened  to  the  garrison  of  United 
States  troops,  ten  miles  away,  to  warn  them  of  the  raid 
and  ask  assistance.  Not  long  afterwards  a  squad  of 
cavalry  was  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  redskins,  guided  by 
the  heartbroken  parent,  who  urged  his  horse  at  top 
speed  in  the  endeavor  to  overtake  the  marauders.  But 
knowing  that  pursuit  was  almost  certain,  the  Apaches 
had  rested  their  ponies,  and,  as  they  were  fresher  and 
tougher  than  those  upon  the  trail,  they  soon  left  the 
latter  far  behind.  Plunging  into  a  shallow  river,  they 
wheeled  about,  and,  while  one  held  the  little  boy  in 
his  outstretched  arms  to  let  the  heartbroken  father 


GERONIMO:  THE  APACHE        401 

know  that  they  still  had  him,  the  other  shouted  de 
fiantly  at  the  United  States  soldiers.  Then,  turning 
suddenly,  they  were  soon  lost  in  the  mountains. 

This  was  but  one  of  many  such  raids,  so  when  General 
Crook  took  command  of  the  United  States  troops  of 
Arizona,  in  June,  1871,  the  settlers  of  the  border  coun 
try  were  in  a  frenzy  of  delight.  At  once  this  skillful 
Indian  fighter  enrolled  a  number  of  friendly  savages 
as  scouts.  They  were  under  a  chief  named  Miguel, 
who  was  perfectly  familiar  with  the  mountain  haunts 
of  the  Apaches,  and,  like  bloodhounds  upon  the  trail 
of  criminals,  were  perfectly  able  to  hunt  down  the 
followers  of  Geronimo  to  their  last  resort.^  In  December 
the  American  troops  gathered  in  the  Tonto  Basin,  a 
mountain  plateau  surrounded  by  high  ridges  of  the 
Mogollen,  the  Mazatal  and  the  Sierra  Ancha  ranges, 
heavily  timbered  slopes  deep  with  the  winter's  snow. 
For  the  first  time  since  they  had  been  striving  against 
the  whites,  the  Apaches  found  themselves  matched  in 
their  own  game.  The  allied  scouts  of  Crook's  army 
were  as  keen,  as  daring,  and  as  untiring  as  the  followers 
of  Geronimo,  and  piloted  the  men  in  blue  uniforms  to 
the  very  heart  of  the  bad  lands,  where  was  the  lair  of 
these  enemies  of  the  border. 

Splitting  into  small  detachments,  the  United  States 
soldiers  scoured  the  barren  wastes  in  search  of  their 
human  quarry.  The  Apaches  skulked,  like  mountain 
lions,  in  the  crevasses  and  coulies  of  the  hills,  and,  seeing 
that  they  were  being  surrounded,  concentrated  in  their 
strongholds,  three  of  which  were  almost  impregnable. 
These  were  the  fortress  at  the  summit  of  Turret  Butte, 


402         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  cliffs  of  the  Superstition  Mountains,  and  the  cave  in 
the  canon  of  Salt  River. 

Major  Brown's  command  was  near  the  latter  place 
on  December  28,  1872,  when  one  of  the  friendly  scouts 
came  up  to  the  officer,  saying: 

"Heap  Tache  down  below  in  cave.  I  show  you 
there,  if  your  men  follow.  I  live  there  once,  but  now 
heart  bad  against  Geronimo." 

"My  men  will  follow  any  trail  you  lead  them  on," 
said  the  United  States  officer.  "We  will  be  ready  to 
fight  any  band  of  Apaches  in  Arizona  in  fifteen  minutes. 
Lead  us  to  the  fort." 

The  soldiers  welcomed  the  news  of  a  near-by  fight 
with  a  cheer,  for  they  were  tired  of  perpetual  marching 
with  no  enemy  in  view,  and,  starting  from  their  bivouac 
in  a  small  box  canon  at  the  first  appearance  of  a  certain 
star  in  the  East,  they  pushed  onward  through  the  night. 
At  daybreak  they  were  at  the  canon  of  the  Salt  River, 
where,  in  a  cave  halfway  down  the  face  of  a  vertical 
cliff,  the  Apaches  were  in  hiding.  The  trail  leading  to 
this  stronghold  was  narrow  and  dangerous,  so  narrow 
in  fact,  that,  should  the  Indians  have  discovered  the 
presence  of  the  whites  before  they  reached  some  rocky 
hills,  they  could  have  annihilated  the  command.  "  Men, 
will  you  follow  me?"  asked  the  gallant  Major,  at  this 
juncture.  "We  will,"  came  from  every  throat.  "Then 
look  to  your  carbines  and  ammunition,"  continued 
Brown.  "Put  some  crackers,  bacon,  and  coffee  in  your 
blankets  slung  over  your  shoulders;  fill  your  canteens 
with  water;  give  a  look  at  your  moccasins,  and  follow 


me." 


GERONIMO:  THE  APACHE        403 

The  friendly  scouts  gathered  about  little  fires,  and 
stuffed  themselves  full  of  mule  meat,  while  the  soldiers 
were  picketing  the  horses  and  mules.  Then  their 
medicine  men  walked  before  them,  telling  them  what 
to  do,  how  to  shoot,  and  how  to  creep  upon  the  enemy. 
This  ceremony  was  soon  over,  and,  as  the  bright  light 
of  the  guiding  star  began  to  twinkle  in  the  East,  the 
soldiers  and  slinking  redskins  softly  began  the  descent 
to  the  cave  of  the  Apaches. 

Moving  like  a  long  file  of  spectres,  the  band  of  at 
tackers  crept  down  the  sides  of  the  barren  mountain. 
For  an  hour  or  more  the  progress  was  leisurely.  The 
air  was  chill  and  blew  keenly  through  the  scraggy 
cedars,  which,  like  ghostly  sentinels,  nodded  and  beck 
oned  in  the  wind.  At  the  crest  of  each  hill  the  column 
halted  for  a  few  moments,  when  a  warning  "Tzit! 
Tzit!"  hissed  from  the  rear,  signalled  that  the  last  man 
had  reached  his  place  in  line.  Thus  the  black  army  of 
death  approached  the  sleeping  followers  of  Geronimo. 

Midnight  had  come,  and  all  was  silence.  The  sharp 
yelp  of  a  coyote  sounded  far  off  across  the  barren  waste, 
and  Nantje  (the  head  Indian  scout)  turned,  seizing 
Major  Brown  firmly  about  the  body.  "  Quiet,"  he 
whispered.  "We  have  discovered  a  footprint  in  the 
soil!"  All  were  still,  as  the  keen-eyed  scout  lay  down 
upon  the  trail  with  some  comrades  by  his  side,  and, 
with  their  blankets  over  their  heads  so  that  not  the 
slightest  gleam  could  escape,  struck  a  few  matches  and 
inspected  the  sign.  "Ugh!  Ugh!"  growled  Nantje. 
"It  is  a  big  bear's  foot.  He  has  been  here  but  an  hour 
past.  It  is  good  luck  for  us,  for  when  a  bear  crosses 


404         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  path  of  a  war  party,  they  will  meet  the  enemy  and 
will  be  successful!" 

Moving  onward  again  for  three  or  four  hours,  suddenly 
the  warning,  "  Tzit!  Tzit!"  sounded  from  the  advance 
guard.  "Ponies!"  whispered  the  scouts,  and  there  in 
a  small,  grassy  glade  were  fifteen  Pima  ponies,  which 
had  been  driven  up  the  mountain  by  Apache  raiders 
that  very  night.  "See,"  cried  Nantje,  "the  sweat  is 
not  yet  dry  upon  their  flanks.  Their  knees  are  full  of 
cactus  thorns,  against  which  they  have  been  driven 
during  the  night.  The  Apaches  have  done  this." 

"Carefully,  now,"  whispered  Major  Brown.  "Ad 
vance  with  great  caution,  and  make  no  noise.  We  are 
within  rifle  shot  of  the  enemy." 

Although  there  was  no  moon,  the  stars  gave  out 
sufficient  light  to  show  that  the  soldiers  were  in  a  coun 
try  filled  with  huge  rocks,  behind  which  a  well-armed 
foe  could  fight  for -hours.  In  front  was  a  deep  valley: 
dark,  precipitous,  vague.  "You  are  at  the  place,"  said 
Nantje.  "A  dozen  picked  men  must  be  sent  forward 
with  me  to  climb  down  the  precipice  in  order  to  attack." 

"All  right,"  whispered  the  Major.  "Fifty  more  will 
come  behind  you.  A  strong  detachment  will  hold  the 
edge  of  the  precipice  to  prevent  any  of  the  hostiles 
from  getting  above  and  killing  our  people  with  their 
rifles.  As  soon  as  these  first  detachments  secure  the 
field,  the  rest  of  our  force  will  come  down." 

The  Indians  in  the  cave  below  were  absolutely  un 
aware  of  the  approach  of  the  soldiers.  They  were  in 
high  good  humor,  and  were  dancing  to  keep  them 
selves  warm.  Several  of  the  raiders  who  had  just  re- 


GERONIMO:  THE  APACHE        405 

turned  from  a  trip  of  killing  and  robbing  in  the  settle 
ments  near  Florence,  on  the  Gila  River,  were  bending 
over  a  fire,  and  stirring  some  deer  meat  in  a  bubbling 
pot,  while  a  few  sleepy  squaws  were  cutting  faggots. 
Sheltered  in  the  bosom  of  these  grim  precipices,  they 
fancied  themselves  secure  from  any  intrusion  save  that 
of  the  eagle,  the  hawk,  the  turkey  buzzard,  or  the  moun 
tain  sheep.  The  fire  danced  upwards,  sending  the 
fitful  gleam  of  the  flame  over  the  rugged  precipices  of 
inky  blackness;  while  far  below  the  glowing  current 
of  the  rushing  Salado  sounded  like  solemn  music  of  an 
invisible  orchestra.  But,  hark,  as  the  first  glint  of  dawn 
reddened  the  horizon,  a  call  sounded  forth,  and  its  echoes 
woke  the  stillness  of  the  grim  solitude:  "We  have  you 
surrounded.  You  cannot  escape.  Surrender!" 

Taken  aback  at  this  unlooked-for  demand,  the  Apaches 
scattered,  like  slinking  wolves,  into  the  cave.  They 
then  hurled  back  their  savage  defiance  in  their  own 
tongue.  "We  will  die  first.  Not  one  of  your  own  party 
will  escape  from  the  canon!"  The  death  wail  came 
from  the  fortress,  and  then,  out  of  the  cave  and  over  the 
great  pile  of  rock,  which  protected  the  entrance,  swarmed 
the  warriors.  Although  outnumbered  three  to  one,  they 
fought  like  tigers.  The  bullets  rained  down  upon  the 
rocks  like  hailstones,  and,  striking  the  roof  and  mouth 
of  the  cave,  glanced  along  and  wrounded  a  number  of 
the  women  and  children.  Sharp  wails  of  pain  and  rage 
rent  the  air  as  the  battle  continued. 

Again  the  Apaches  were  summoned  to  surrender,  or, 
if  they  would  not  do  so,  to  allow  such  of  their  women  and 
children  as  they  desired  pass  out  between  the  lines. 


406         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

But  to  this  demand  came  yells  of  defiance.  A  little  boy, 
not  more  than  four  years  old,  now  ran  out  of  the  cave 
and  stood  dumbfounded  at  the  affray.  Without  a 
moment's  pause,  Nantje  rushed  forward,  grasped  the 
trembling  infant  by  the  arm,  and  escaped  to  the  lines  of 
the  troopers  with  the  boy  unhurt.  A  bullet  struck  the 
little  Apache,  but  did  not  injure  him,  and,  as  the  new 
recruit  reached  a  place  of  safety,  the  troopers  gave  a  yell 
of  encouragement  and  appreciation  of  the  brave  rescue. 

The  end  of  the  fight  had  nearly  come.  A  detachment 
left  by  Major  Brown  at  the  top  of  the  precipice  to  pro 
tect  the  retreat,  in  case  of  necessity,  had  worked  its 
way  over  to  a  high  shelf  of  rock,  overlooking  the  cave 
of  the  Apaches,  and  began  to  tumble  down  great  boul 
ders,  which  speedily  crushed  the  greater  number  of 
these  rude  warriors  of  the  mountains.  The  rifle  fire 
grew  hot  and  savage;  so  savage  that,  in  twenty  minutes, 
every  Indian  was  dead  at  his  post,  and  the  troops 
swarmed  into  the  little  fort.  In  the  inner  recesses  of 
the  cave  were  the  women  and  children,  a  number  of 
whom  had  been  struck  by  glancing  bullets  and  frag 
ments  of  rock.  They  were  seized,  carried  to  the  pack 
train,  mounted  on  horses  and  mules,  and  started  for  the 
nearest  railway  station.  The  great  fight  in  the  moun 
tains  was  over. 

This  was  a  crushing  blow  to  the  savages.  Driven  to 
bay  in  their  chosen  fortress,  where  they  thought  that  no 
one  could  reach  them,  all  of  the  warriors  had  been 
exterminated,  while  only  one  white  soldier  had  been 
killed.  As  Major  Randall,  two  days  later,  delivered 
another  crushing  blow  to  the  hostiles,  at  Turret  Butte, 


GERONIMO:  THE  APACHE        407 

the  remaining  Apaches,  including  Geronimo,  soon 
capitulated  to  the  governmental  forces.  But  this 
snakelike  warrior  was  not  to  remain  long  in  peace  and 
quiet,  for  he  resented  the  control  of  the  whites.  In 
May  he  escaped  from  Fort  Apache,  taking  with  him 
thirty-four  warriors,  eight  boys,  and  ninety-one  women, 
who  travelled  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  before 
camping.  Thus  and  thus  only  they  eluded  the  cavalry 
sent  in  pursuit,  and,  although  chased  hundreds  of  miles, 
the  band  safely  reached  the  wild  wastes  of  the  Sierra 
Madre  Mountains. 

General  Crook  pushed  hot  upon  the  trail  of  the 
terrible  Apache.  The  thermometer  registered  one 
hundred  and  twenty  degrees,  and  often  more.  The 
air  was  like  a  fiery  furnace,  and  the  soil  was  like  a  hot 
stove,  under  the  feet  of  the  troopers.  Often  the  metal 
work  upon  their  guns  became  so  hot  that  it  could  not  be 
touched  with  the  bare  hand,  and  sometimes,  aflame  with 
thirst,  they  would  reach  a  tiny  spring — the  only  one  for 
miles — to  find  it  befouled  by  the  retreating  Apaches,  so 
that  neither  man  nor  beast  could  drink  from  it.  Still 
Crook  persisted  and  finally  captured  the  crafty  Geronimo. 
He  held  him  for  only  one  night,  and  then  the  slippery 
Apache  escaped  to  the  arid  wasteland,  leaving  his  wife 
behind  him  in  the  hands  of  the  soldiers.  Several  nights 
later  he  stole  into  camp  with  four  of  his  warriors,  found 
his  wife's  tent  in  the  blackness,  and,  before  the  dozing 
sentries  discovered  him,  was  off  again  into  the  wilder 
ness,  with  his  better  half  strapped  before  him  on  his 
scraggly  pony. 

Geronimo  retreated  into  Mexico  and  lost  himself  in 


408         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  treeless  mountains  which  seemed  to  be  incapable 
of  sustaining  human  life.  But  he  was  pursued  by  the 
American  troops  as  if  he  were  a  wild  animal.  Fortu 
nately,  a  treaty  with  Mexico  made  it  possible  for  United 
States  forces  to  venture  far  beyond  the  Rio  Grande; 
and  thus  several  detachments  were  soon  upon  the  trail 
of  the  outlawed  Apache.  Captain  H.  W.  Lawton  and 
Assistant  Surgeon  Leonard  Wood  did  their  utmost  to 
capture  him.  He  was  hunted  from  mountain  range  to 
mountain  range;  through  snowfields,  cactus  plants,  and 
sun-baked  ridges.  Every  device  knowrn  to  the  red  men 
was  practiced  to  throw  the  pursuing  enemies  off  the 
trail,  but  the  half-breed  trailers  were  good,  and  it  was 
soon  evident  that  not  a  spot  could  be  reached  by  Gercn- 
imo's  band  which  would  offer  them  security.  Twenty- 
five  different  commands,  or  detachments,  representing 
four  regiments,  kept  up  this  persistent  trailing  through 
narrow  paths,  along  dangerous  divides,  down  side  cuts 
into  the  middle  of  precipices  hundreds  of  feet  high,  up 
precipitous  banks  and  beetling  crags;  sometimes  leading 
the  jaded  horses  for  hours,  at  times  looking  vertically 
into  canons  whose  bottom  was  a  mile  below.  One  of 
the  scouts,  while  looking  for  signs  of  the  fugitives,  rode 
one  horse  nearly  five  hundred  miles  in  less  than  seven 
days  and  nights;  while  a  young  lieutenant  once  climbed 
a  mountainous  ascent  for  twenty-six  hours,  with  the 
heat  at  110°,  and  without  water  for  eighteen  hours  of 
this  time.  Such  perseverance  was  bound  to  tell. 

At  length  Lawton's  troopers,  clinging  to  the  trail  like 
bloodhounds,  and  suffering  much  from  heat  and  thirst, 
cornered  Geronimo's  men  in  a  valley  three  hundred 


GERONIMO:  THE  APACHE        409 

miles  south  of  the  Mexican  boundary  line,  in  the  Sonora 
range  of  mountains.  There  had  been  seveial  skirmishes 
with  them  along  the  way,  and  the  United  States  troopers 
had  shown  great  gallantry  under  fire,  especially  in 
rescuing  their  own  wounded  troops  when  under  close 
range  of  the  rifles  of  Geronimo's  Apaches.  The  food 
supply  of  these  fugitives  was  now  exhausted,  and, 
realizing  that  to  stand  out  longer  would  be  the  height 
of  absurdity,  the  Indians  made  signs  of  peace.  At  the 
risk  of  his  life,  a  young  lieutenant,  named  Gatewood, 
of  the  Sixth  Cavalry,  went  unattended  into  Geronimo's 
camp,  and  meeting  the  Apache  chieftain  face  to  face, 
gave  him  the  terms  of  speedy  surrender.  The  old  chief 
was  helpless,  and  he  knew  it.  So  he  surrendered  and 
was  brought  back  to  New  Mexico  with  the  remnants  of 
his  once  powerful  army  of  mountain  fighters. 

Upon  his  capture  and  return  to  the  United  States,  a 
tremendous  call  went  up  from  the  settlers  of  the  South 
west  to  have  him  removed  to  some  place  from  which 
he  could  not  escape.  "We  do  not  know  when  this 
terrible  raider  will  not  again  break  out  and  renew  his 
plundering  and  murder,"  wrote  a  committee  of  the 
settlers  to  the  Department  of  the  Interior.  And  thus, 
in  deference  to  the  wishes  of  the  white  pioneers,  Geron- 
imo  and  the  few  people  of  his  tribe,  who  had  survived 
the  war,  were  sent  to  Florida,  and  then  to  Alabama, 
to  be  confined  upon  a  reservation.  Geronimo,  the 
famous  fighter,  died  in  1909,  treasuring  no  doubt  to  the 
last,  happy  memories  of  the  time  when,  as  a  mountain 
outlaw,  he  was  the  scourge  and  terror  of  the  South 
western  frontier. 


RED   CLOUD:    THE  SIOUX  VON 
SEYDLITZ 

A  STALWART  warrior  of  the  Sioux  nation  was 
lying  before-  his  tepee,  busily  sharpening  his 
hatchet  upon  a  stone,  when  a  cloud  of  dust 
upon  the  horizon  warned  him  of  the  approach  of  a 
rider.  He  looked  up  languidly,  as  a  calico  pony  ap 
proached  at  breakneck  speed,  and,  when  a  half-naked 
warrior  threw  himself  upon  the  ground  and  advanced 
to  speak  with  him,  he  scarcely  deigned  to  notice  the 
visitor. 

"Mahapiya-luta,"  said  the  dismounted  warrior,  "I 
have  news  for  you.  Great  news." 

"Ugh,"  said  he  with  the  hatchet.  "Let  us  have  it, 
Soboya." 

"The  palefaces  are  upon  the  waters  which  sound  with 
the  music  of  bells.  There  are  many  of  them  with 
horses  with  long  ears,  and  boxes  which  run  on  wheels. 
They  are  cutting  down  the  pine  trees  and  are  building  a 
big  house.  The  squaws  of  the  paleface  warriors  are  with 
them,  and  the  pappooses.  They  have  iron  pieces  on 
wheels  which  speak  with  the  voice  of  thunder,  and 
instruments  which,  when  placed  to  their  mouths,  sound 
forth  in  tones  of  sweetness.  Yea,  they  are  many  and 
they  are  in  the  heart  of  our  best  hunting  grounds." 

Mahapiya-luta  had  leaped  from  the  turf,  as  the  other 

410 


Courtesy  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  Smithsonian  Institute. 
RED    CLOUD. 


RED  CLOUD:  VON  SEYDLITZ  411 

was  speaking,  and  in  his  eyes  shone  a  fierce  and  sinister 
lustre. 

"How  many  are  there?"  he  asked. 

The  courier  looked  puzzled  for  an  instant,  and  then 
held  up  both  hands  with  a  sweeping  motion. 

"There  are  as  many  as  ponies  in  yonder  herd,"  said 
he.  "The  palefaces  are  as  thick  as  trees  along  the  side 
of  the  mountain  behind  our  camp.  But  we  are  greater 
by  ten  times.  Yes,  we  can  sweep  them  off  the  face  of 
our  land." 

"And  we  will,"  shouted  Mahapiya-luta,  who  was 
known  to  the  whites  as  Red  Cloud.  "Did  I  not  tell  the 
Great  White  Eagle  (General  Carrington)  so,  in  the 
council  at  the  house,  called  Laramie  by  the  palefaces? 
Did  I  not  say  that  if  he  and  his  Long  Swords  stole  the 
country  of  our  fathers  without  asking  my  permission 
that  we  would  take  their  scalps?  Did  I  not  tell  him 
that  the  fireboat  which  walks  on  mountains  (locomotive) 
could  not  come  into  our  hunting  grounds  and  scare  off 
all  the  game?  Show  me  the  place  where  the  palefaces 
have  camped,  0  Soboya,  and  we  will  drive  them  from 
the  soil." 

"Come  with  me,"  answered  Soboya,  "and  you  can 
.see  for  yourself  that  what  I  say  to  you  is  the  truth." 


On  a  plateau  between  two  branches  of  the  Piney 
Creek — a  branch  of  the  Powder  River  in  Wyoming — 
a  camp  and  stockade  had  been  established,  on  the  thir 
teenth  of  July,  1866.  Four  miles  away  was  the  mag 
nificent  Big  Horn  Range  of  Mountains,  with  a  towering 


412         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

snow  peak,  called  Cloud  Peak,  jutting  nine  thousand 
feet  into  the  azure  sky.  It  was  a  lonely  place — the 
farthest  post  of  United  States  regulars  in  the  wilder 
ness — but  as  General  Carrington,  its  commander,  looked 
about  him  upon  the  wide  plateau  decked  with  beauti 
ful  flowers,  and  green  with  waving  grass,  he  smiled 
grimly  at  the  scene  of  natural  beauty.  The  mountains 
and  hills  were  covered  with  pines  of  restful  green,  the 
waters  of  the  creek  and  its  tributary  rivulets  were  as 
pure  as  crystal.  Trout  leaped  in  the  tiny  pools  and 
cataracts.  Antelope  grazed  upon  the  wide  sweep  of 
the  plains,  while  deep-rutted  trails  showed  where  the 
bison  had  recently  passed  by.  "It  is  a  glorious  situ 
ation,"  said  Carrington  to  himself,  "but  the  Indians 
will  not  let  us  enjoy  it  as  we  should.  Well,  they  will 
find  us  ready  and  prepared.  I,  for  one,  am  glad  to  be 
here." 

As  the  soldiers  fell  to  work  to  erect  the  stockade  and 
buildings  of  this  new  fortification,  called  Fort  Phil 
Kearney,  they  were  not  long  in  realizing  that  the  red 
skins  did  not  intend  to  leave  them  alone.  Picket  posts 
were  established  upon  the  surrounding  hills,  which 
overlooked  the  Bozeman  trail  and  approaches  from 
both  the  East  and  the  West.  Three  times  they  were 
attacked  by  the  hostiles.  Upon  the  third  of  these,  a 
warrior  in  warpaint  and  feathers  rode  far  out  beyond 
his  yelping  followers,  and,  shaking  his  clenched  fist  at 
the  soldiers  who  were  bringing  up  a  howitzer,  called  out : 

"Red  Cloud  has  told  you  to  leave  the  hunting  grounds 
of  the  Sioux.  If  you  remain  here,  you  will  all  be  killed. 
Red  Cloud  has  spoken." 


RED   CLOUD:  VON   SEYDLITZ     413 

A  jeer  of  derision  greeted  this  insult,  and  a  case-shot 
was  immediately  exploded  among  the  clusters  of  red 
men.  They  scattered  like  chaff  before  the  wind.  The 
soldiers  cheered  their  departure,  and,  turning  towards 
the  fort,  withdrew  in  close  order,  with  their  faces  to 
wards  the  evil-looking  adherents  of  the  Sioux  chieftain. 

This  was  not  the  last  attack  upon  General  Carrington's 
frontiersmen,  by  any  means,  for  many  who  ventured 
from  the  fort  were  ambuscaded.  The  wood  trains 
which  went  out  to  fetch  logs  from  a  saw  mill,  some  miles 
away,  were  constantly  attacked.  There  was  fighting 
all  the  time.  Many  stragglers  who  had  ventured  out 
alone  were  cut  off  and  killed.  A  few  were  scalped, 
and  crawling  back  to  the  stockade,  were  rescued  by  their 
now  terrified  companions,  who  were  constantly  warned 
not  to  leave  the  protection  of  the  log  fortress.  From 
the  first  of  August,  until  the  close  of  the  year,  the  In 
dians  killed  one  hundred  and  fifty-four  persons,  wounded 
twenty  more,  and  captured  nearly  seven  hundred 
horses,  mules,  and  cattle.  Every  train  which  passed 
over  the  Bozeman  trail  was  attacked,  and  there  were 
fifty-one  demonstrations  against  the  fort  by  Red  Cloud 
and  his  followers.  Men  grew  used  to  war  and  the 
sound  of  spitting  bullets  and  flying  arrows. 

Among  the  officers  of  the  fort  was  a  Captain  Fetter- 
man,  who  had  had  less  experience  in  the  country  than 
the  other  officers,  and  who  was  always  anxious  for  a 
fight.  On  the  twenty-first  of  December  a  wood  train 
was  sent  out  to  gather  a  supply  of  timber  for  the  fort, 
and,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  lookout  on  a 
hill  nearby  signalled  that  it  had  been  attacked  by  the 


414         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

Indians  in  force,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  fort. 
A  relief  party  of  eighty-one  men  was  immediately  sent 
out  to  the  aid  of  the  beleagured  whites,  and  the  com 
mand  was  entrusted  to  Fetterman.  He  boasted  that 
with  this  troop  he  could  ride  through  the  entire  Sioux 
nation. 

As  the  soldiers  left  the  post,  General  Carrington  gave 
specific  orders  that  they  were  not  to  pursue  the  Indians 
across  a  trail  which  was  visible  from  the  fort.  "You 
shall  relieve  the  wood  train,  drive  back  the  Indians,  but 
on  no  account  pursue  them  beyond  the  Lodge  Trail 
Ridge,"  said  the  careful  commander  at  the  moment  of 
departure,  and  in  a  loud  voice.  "All  right/'  called 
Fetterman,  "I  shall  be  sure  to  obey  your  orders." 
With  a  smile  on  his  face,  he  rode  out  into  the  open, 
taking  a  direction  which  would  lead  him  to  the  rear 
of  the  Indians  who  were  menacing  the  wood  train. 

Red  Cloud  was  in  command  of  the  savage  horde  upon 
the  plains,  and,  when  he  heard  that  Fetterman's  com 
mand  was  approaching,  he  directed  his  braves  to  re 
treat  down  the  valley.  The  wood  train  immediately 
broke  corral,  and,  as  the  redskins  went  away,  made  for 
the  fort.  Fetterman  and  his  men  rode  after  the  red 
men,  and,  entirely  disregarding  the  orders  from  General 
Carrington,  followed  the  fleeing  braves  down  a  ravine. 
This  was  exactly  what  Red  Cloud  had  wished,  and, 
taunting  the  oncoming  soldiers  with  jeers  and  insults, 
he  had  soon  drawn  them  into  an  ambuscade.  Suddenly 
the  bluecoats  found  themselves  surrounded.  Too  late 
they  turned  about  to  retreat  to  the  protection  of  Fort 
Phil  Kearney.  In  their  rear  a  vast  and  overwhelming 


RED  CLOUD:  VON  SEYDLITZ     415 

mass  of  Indians  galloped  upon  them,  driving  them  into 
a  circle  for  defense,  and  shooting  them  down  by  scores. 
The  whites  fought  gamely  and  well,  but  it  was  of  little 
avail.  They  were  soon  overwhelmed  by  the  great 
numbers  of  the  Sioux,  as  well  armed  as  they  were  them 
selves,  and  led  by  Red  Cloud  in  person.  Soon  not  a 
single  soldier  was  alive,  and  the  air  resounded  with  the 
wild  warwhoops  of  the  victorious  savages. 

At  the  fort  the  heavy  firing  of  the  battle  was  heard 
about  twelve  o'clock.  Carrington  instantly  dispatched 
fifty-four  men  to  the  relief  of  Fetterman  and  his  doomed 
command,  who  had  disappeared  from  view  behind  the 
sloping  hills.  The  men  went  forward  on  the  run. 
Carrington,  himself,  mounted  the  observatory  tower, 
fieldglasses  in  hand,  and  anxiously  scanned  the  distant 
hills.  He  was  fearful  of  the  result  of  the  expedition,  but 
dared  say  nothing  to  his  officers  and  men,  or  to  the  women 
and  children  who  had  husbands  and  fathers  in  Fetter- 
man's  detachment.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  relief 
party  returned  with  terrible  tidings  of  an  awful  dis 
aster. 

When  they  had  reached  the  end  of  the  ridge  nearest 
the  fort,  they  saw  evidences  of  a  great  battle.  Forty- 
nine  men  were  lying  behind  a  pile  of  rocks,  in  a  space 
only  about  six  feet  square.  They  had  been  killed  by 
arrows  and  spears,  and  not  by  bullets.  Fetterman  was 
found  prostrate  behind  a  hillock  with  another  officer 
by  his  side.  As  their  heads  were  burned  and  filled  with 
powder  around  the  wounds,  it  was  evident  that  they 
had  committed  suicide  when  they  found  that  it  was  aU 
up  with  them.  On  every  side  were  signs  of  the  fiercest 


416         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

kind  of  hand-to-hand  fighting.  Behind  a  pile  of  stones 
were  two  civilians  who  had  been  armed  with  modern 
six-shot  rifles,  and  as  many  Indian  ponies  lay  near  by,  it 
was  evident  that  they  had  put  up  a  stout  defense. 
Ghastly  and  mutilated  remains,  shot  full  of  arrows  and 
stripped  naked,  were  on  every  side.  Red  Cloud  and  his 
braves  had  had  a  terrible  victory. 

By  this  defeat  and  slaughter  of  Fetterman's  command, 
Red  Cloud  gained  so  much  fame  that  he  was  chosen  to 
be  the  leading  war  chief  of  the  Sioux.  Thousands  of 
painted  warriors  enrolled  themselves  with  his  band,  and 
he  soon  found  himself  in  control  of  numbers  of  daring 
spirits  who  were  constantly  on  the  lookout  for  another 
battle  with  the  Government  troops.  Travel  on  the 
Bozeman  trail  was  given  up  entirely.  Letters  from 
the  soldiers  which  got  through  the  prowling  Indians  to 
the  East  often  had  in  them  the  words:  "We  are  in 
constant  fear  of  our  lives.  This  may  be  my  last  letter. 
The  Indians  fairly  swarm  about  the  fort."  Men  of 
the  garrison  who  had  moved  West  for  adventure's 
sake  had  found  all  that  could  satisfy  the  most  delicate 
palate.  Danger  was  always  present. 

As  winter  passed  and  the  warm  breath  of  summer 
blew  across  the  prairie,  Red  Cloud  was  persuaded  by 
his  warlike  followers  to  make  another  attack  upon  the 
whites.  The  painted  braves  were  weary  of  cutting  off 
stragglers  and  attacking  stagecoaches;  they  wanted 
another  stand-up  fight.  Half  of  the  Sioux  were  armed 
with  rifles  which  they  had  obtained  from  white  traders, 
and  some  had  repeaters.  There  were  about  three 
thousand  of  these  red  warriors,  and  they  were  not 


RED   CLOUD:  VON    SEYDLITZ     417 

cowards,  although  they  had  a  healthy  respect  for  the 
white  troops.  Under  cover  of  frequent  skirmishes, 
Red  Cloud  collected  his  adherents  within  striking  dis 
tance  of  the  fort,  and  by  the  first  of  August  he  was 
prepared  to  have  a  desperate  encounter  with  those  who 
had  dared  to  trespass  upon  the  land  of  his  fathers. 

Woodcutting  was  still  going  on  in  the  vicinity  of  this 
stockade  in  the  far  wilderness,  and,  under  the  leadership 
of  Major  James  Powell,  numerous  soldiers  protected 
those  engaged  in  this  task.  The  wagons  used  by  the 
woodcutters  were  furnished  by  the  quartermaster's 
department.  In  order  to  afford  as  much  protection  as 
possible  to  their  occupants  in  case  of  an  onslaught  by 
the  Sioux,  loopholes  were  cut  in  the  sides.  Major 
Powell  had  fourteen  of  such  vehicles,  and  he  drew  them 
up  in  the  form  of  an  oval,  as  the  men  busied  themselves 
in  cutting  down  the  neighboring  forest  trees.  The 
wheels  were  removed  from  all  but  two,  which  were 
placed  at  either  end  of  the  barricade.  It  was  thus  a 
formidable  obstacle  to  an  Indian  attack. 

On  August  the  second  Indians  were  seen  approaching 
the  fort  in  great  numbers.  Red  Cloud  had  made  his 
plan  of  attack,  and  had  decided  to  annihilate  the  little 
detachment  under  Major  Powell  (twenty-eight  in  all) 
before  he  set  upon  Fort  Phil  Kearney.  Although  his 
warriors  dashed  forward  with  extreme  speed,  they  were 
seen  long  before  they  reached  the  wagon -box  corral. 
On  they  galloped — three  thousand  of  them — and,  as 
they  appeared  above  the  rolling  hills,  the  sun  glistened 
upon  their  shining  rifle  barrels  and  painted  faces.  Chant 
ing  a  wild  war  song,  and  brandishing  spears  and  rifles 


418         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

aloft,  they  came  down  upon  Powell's  little  force  like  an 
overwhelming  wave  of  the  sea.  Yelping  with  savage 
delight  at  the  thought  of  an  easy  victory,  they  sent  for 
ward  a  party  of  two  hundred  red  men  to  stampede  the 
mules  which  were  used  in  the  wagons.  The  herders 
stood  them  off  for  some  time,  but,  seeing  that  it  was 
useless  to  fight  against  such  odds,  retreated  towards 
Powell's  corral.  Immediately  a  large  force  of  painted 
braves  hastened  to  cut  them  off. 

But  Powell  dashed  out  from  the  wagon  boxes  to  their 
rescue.  With  him  were  only  fifteen  men,  but  they 
shot  so  accurately  into  the  mass  of  Indians  that  the  red 
skins  turned  to  drive  them  away.  The  herders,  mean 
while,  made  their  escape  towards  the  fort,  and,  after 
a  stiff  brush  with  another  detachment  of  Red  Cloud's 
army,  managed  to  reach  the  safety  of  the  log  stockade. 
Powell  retreated  to  his  wagon  boxes,  and  there,  with  his 
paltry  twenty-eight,  prepared  for  the  onslaught  of  Red 
Cloud's  three  thousand.  There  were  greater  odds  here 
than  when  Roman  Nose  charged  upon  the  defenders  of 
Beecher's  Island,  and  the  whites  were  to  distinguish 
themselves  as  splendidly  as  did  the  Rough  Riders  of 
"Sandy"  Forsyth. 

"Lie  down!"  shouted  Powell  to f his  men.  "Throw 
blankets  over  the  tops  of  the  wagons  to  screen  yourselves ! 
Bore  loopholes  through  the  sides  of  the  wagons  with  the 
augurs,  if  you  need  more  room  to  fight.  And,  for  your 
lives,  don't  fire  until  the  savages  are  close  upon  us!" 
So  saying,  he  stationed  himself  at  the  end  of  the  corral, 
rifle  in  hand,  and  awaited  the  onslaught  of  the  painted 
followers  of  Red  Cloud.  As  he  ceased  speaking,  three 


RED  CLOUD:  VON   SEYDLITZ     419 

civilians  and  one  old  frontiersman,  a  dead  shot,  suc 
ceeded  in  joining  his  party.  Thus  the  numbers  were 
increased  to  thirty-two. 

Powell  was  seven  miles  from  the  fort,  and  the  chances 
were  that  he  would  be  relieved.  This  gave  him  some 
satisfaction,  as  he  saw  Red  Cloud  busily  giving  direc 
tions  to  his  warriors,  and  massing  them  for  a  charge 
upon  the  corral.  The  redskins  were  determined  to  ride 
clean  over  the  soldiers  and  end  the  battle  with  one,  swift 
blow.  Remembering  their  success  with  Fetterman,  they 
doubtless  felt  that  the  fate  of  the  thirty-two  would  be 
the  same.  Their  women  and  children  were  with  them, 
and,  massed  upon  a  number  of  hills,  eagerly  watched 
their  relatives  as  they  formed  in  line  of  battle.  Five 
hundred  Sioux  warriors,  magnificently  mounted,  sud 
denly  detached  themselves  from  the  three  thousand, 
and,  urging  on  their  multi-colored  steeds  with  blows 
and  wild  cheers,  started  head-on  for  the  corral. 

On,  on,  they  charged.  Slowly  went  the  ponies  at 
first,  but  gradually  their  speed  was  increased,  until  they 
were  galloping  with  great  swiftness  upon  the  silent 
wagon  boxes.  A  cloud  of  alkali  dust  surrounded  the 
yelling  band,  while,  in  their  rear,  Red  Cloud  gathered 
together  his  main  force  to  rush  into  any  opening  which 
the  five  hundred  might  make.  They  went  on,  on,  on, 
until  it  seemed  as  if  they  would  be  right  among  the 
wagons,  when,  with  a  deafening  roar,  a  frightful  and 
overwhelming  fire  was  poured  into  their  very  faces.  A 
rain  of  bullets  ploughed  into  the  mass  of  redskins.  Ponies 
rolled  over  each  other  in  great  confusion.  Painted 
warriors  fell  headlong  upon  the  turf.  All  were  mixed 


420         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

together  in  a  wild  and  tangled  mass  of  maddened 
bronchos  and  screaming  Sioux. 

As  each  of  Powell's  men  had  several  rifles,  the  fire 
from  the  wagon  boxes  was  steady,  persistent,  and  con 
tinuous.  Checked,  but  not  halted,  the  redskins  rode 
up  to  the  very  edge  of  the  corral  and  shot  over  the  tops 
of  the  wagons  at  the  garrison.  But  not  one  leaped  into 
the  enclosure.  Dividing  like  a  great  billow  of  the  sea, 
what  was  left  of  the  five  hundred  swept  around  the 
hollow  oval  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  find  an  opening. 
But,  as  they  rushed  onward  in  a  mad  and  desperate 
gallop,  a  withering  fire  was  directed  into  their  very 
backs,  so  that  many  fell  helpless  to  the  ground  within 
striking  distance  of  the  sides  of  the  wagon  boxes.  So 
close  were  the  Sioux  that  often  one  bullet  from  a  fron 
tiersman  would  kill  two  redskins.  The  rifles  of  Powell's 
men  were  hot  from  rapid  use,  and  revolvers  finished 
the  defense  of  the  gallant  thirty-two,  as  the  Indians 
rode  back  to  their  disgruntled  companions. 

Disgusted  with  the  failure  of  this  attack,  Red  Cloud 
consulted  with  his  chieftains,  and  determined  upon 
another  method  of  procedure.  Seven  hundred  Indians 
were  formed  into  a  skirmish  party,  and  were  told  to 
creep  as  near  the  corral  as  they  could  and  to  pour  a  heavy 
fire  into  the  wagons.  The  rest — about  two  thousand 
warriors — were  gathered  upon  a  hill  and  placed  in  several 
long  lines.  They  were  to  overwhelm  the  men  under 
Powell,  and  to  deal  with  them  as  they  had  with  Fet- 
terman, — the  disobedient.  Let  us  see  how  they  fared. 

After  the  skirmishers  had  poured  a  hot  fire  into  the 
silent  wagon  boxes,  which  literally  tore  the  tops  to 


RED  CLOUD:  VON   SEYDLITZ     421 

pieces,  the  two  thousand  began  a  mad  gallop  towards 
the  corral.  Again  there  was  an  awful  silence,  until  they 
reached  a  distance  of  ninety  yards  or  so  from  the  de 
fenders  of  the  wooden  oval.  The  thirty-two  had  been 
reduced  to  twenty-eight,  but  their  spirits  had  not 
suffered.  As  the  stalwart  braves  came  onward  in 
splendid  war  bonnets  and  beaded  war  shirts,  it  was  a 
sight  which  would  have  made  many  a  man  quail. 
Several  had  shields  of  buffalo  hide  upon  their  left 
arms,  which  were  brightly  painted  and  decorated  with 
fantastic  designs.  Led  by  the  nephew  of  Red  Cloud, 
they  dashed  forward  in  a  wide  semicircle,  chanting 
wild  war  songs,  calling  upon  the  Great  Spirit  to  aid 
them,  and  brandishing  their  weapons  aloft.  It  was  a 
clear  day.  The  sun  shone  brightly  upon  them,  and 
made  good  targets  for  the  silent  and  watchful  men 
from  Fort  Phil  Kearney. 

They  advanced  in  a  wild,  uneven  column,  when 

Crash! 

A  volley  poured  into  their  faces,  knocking  the  nephew 
of  the  great  Red  Cloud  to  the  turf,  and  sending  down 
full  twenty  warriors  among  their  plunging  bronchos. 
Still  they  came  on,  and 

Crash!    Crash! 

A  still  more  deadly  mass  of  lead  ploughed  gaps  in 
the  line.  They  did  not  falter,  but  swept  forward  with 
fierce  cries  of  anger  and  disdain.  Ponies  screamed  in 
agony  and  broke  from  the  mass  of  maddened  braves 
whenever  their  riders  fell  prostrate  to  the  turf.  The 
Sioux  were  now  within  twenty  yards.  It  was  a  terribly 
critical  situation.  Should  they  leap  over  the  wooden 


422         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

barrier,  it  would  be  all  over  with  Powell's  valiant  band. 
But 

Crash!    Crash!    Crash! 

The  Sioux  were  so  close  that  the  troopers  rose  to  their 
knees,  in  their  excitement,  and  threw  their  augurs,  re 
volvers,  and  knives  into  the  faces  of  the  Indians.  It 
was  like  the  charge  of  Grover's  brigade  on  Stonewall 
Jackson's  men  behind  the  railroad  cut  at  Second  Bull 
Run.  The  white  men  did  anything  to  keep  off  the  foe. 
They  were  desperate. 

Crash!    Crash!    Crash! 

Others  were  keeping  up  the  fire.  The  Indians  wavered. 
They  broke.  They  began  to  ride  away.  A  fierce  cheer 
rent  the  air  from  the  brave  twenty-eight,  and,  upon  a 
hillock  a  half  mile  away,  Red  Cloud,  like  Napoleon  at 
Waterloo,  bitterly  bewailed  this  sudden  and  appalling 
reverse.  He  thought  that  he  saw  the  end  of  his  power 
as  head  war  chief  of  the  bloodthirsty  Sioux. 

With  desperation  the  Indians  now  formed  for  another 
attack.  The  ground  around  the  corral  was  literally 
piled  with  heaps  of  the  slain.  In  spite  of  this  they 
charged  six  times  upon  the  defenders  of  the  wagon-box 
corral.  For  three  hours  there  was  continuous  fighting 
and  stubborn  resistance.  Finally,  as  Red  Cloud's 
warriors  apparently  formed  for  a  last,  desperate  onrush 
a  shell  burst  in  the  midst  of  the  Indian  skirmishers,  and, 
through  the  trees  away  off  to  the  left,  the  gallant  de 
fenders  of  the  wooden  fortification  saw  the  blue  uniforms 
of  approaching  soldiers.  They  were  saved! 

Cheer  upon  cheer  rent  the  air,  as,  at  the  head  of  one 
hundred  men,  Major  Smith  galloped  into  view.  The 


RED  CLOUD:  VON  SEYDLITZ     423 

herders,  woodsmen,  and  scouts  who  had  escaped  from 
their  camps  in  the  morning  had  reached  the  fort  with 
the  news  of  Powell's  danger.  Thus,  all  who  could  be 
spared  from  the  stockade  had  been  sent,  with  a  howitzer, 
to  rescue  the  brave  defenders  of  the  wagon-box  corral. 
Red  Cloud's  warriors  retreated  in  sullen  silence,  carrying 
off  their  dead,  as  is  their  custom.  Had  they  again 
turned  upon  the  whites,  when  they  were  in  the  open,  there 
is  no  doubt  that  they  could  have  nearly  annihilated 
Smith's  little  body  of  rescuers,  because  of  their  over 
whelming  numbers. 

When  Powell's  rangers  reached  the  protection  of 
Fort  Phil  Kearney,  many  were  half  crazy  with  the  ex 
citement  and  nervous  strain  of  the  fight.  Several  never 
completely  recovered  from  the  terrible  experience 
through  which  they  had  just  passed,  and  Powell,  him 
self,  was  an  invalid  for  three  years.  Never  had  white 
men  displayed  greater  hardihood,  courage,  and  fighting 
prowess  against  overwhelming  masses  of  redskins;  and 
the  fact  that  nearly  half  of  the  total  Indian  force  were 
either  killed  or  dangerously  wounded  (as  was  afterwards 
learned  from  Red  Cloud  himself)  bears  full  witness  to 
the  accurate  marksmanship  of  the  whites. 


A  treaty  was  made  with  all  the  Sioux  within  six 
months,  and  Fort  Phil  Kearney  was  abandoned  to  its 
fate.  The  troops  were  withdrawn.  The  followers  of 
Red  Cloud  immediately  burned  the  wooden  stockade 
to  the  ground.  Red  Cloud,  himself,  never  afterwards 
participated  in  an  important  action  with  the  soldiers, 


424          FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

although  elected  to  the  position  of  head  chief  of  the 
Sioux.  The  prestige  which  he  had  lost  at  the  wagon- 
box  fight  returned  after  the  abandonment  of  Fort  Phil 
Kearney,  and  he  was  always  admired  and  respected  by 
his  red  followers.  In  the  war  of  1876,  General  Mac 
kenzie  surprised  his  camp  before  he  had  an  opportunity 
to  go  upon  the  warpath,  which,  to  say  the  least,  was 
most  fortunate  for  those  who  wished  to  have  peace  upon 
the  frontier. 

The  Sioux  leader  lived  to  be  nearly  ninety  years  of 
age,  and,  when  questioned  upon  his  feelings  about  the 
defeat  by  Powell's  men,  would  say:  "It  was  a  big 
fight.  The  long  swords  fought  as  I  had  never  seen  them 
before.  My  warriors  were  as  thick  as  blades  of  grass. 
I  went  in  with  many.  I  lost  over  half.  The  long 
swords  shot  true  to  the  mark.  My  warriors  never 
fought  again." 


SITTING  BULL  AND  CRAZY  HORSE:  GEN 
ERAL  AND  ABLE  LIEUTENANT  OF 
THE  GREAT  SIOUX  REBELLION 

A^ROOP  of  United  States  cavalrymen  wound,  like 
a  great  worm,  up  the  dry  bed   of  a  tortuous 
creek.    It  was  in  March,  1876,  and  the  weather 
was  bitterly  cold.    Sharp,   biting  gusts  blew  the  dry 
alkali  dust  into  the  faces  of  the  bronzed  troopers.     But 
with  determined  manner  they  pressed  on  towards  the 
purling  waters  of  the  Powder  River. 

As  the  weather-beaten  commander  of  this  expedition 
trotted  quietly  in  the  front  of  the  line,  a  horseman 
suddenly  appeared  upon  the  horizon,  and,  galloping 
hard  for  the  travel-stained  column,  drew  rein  before 
the  leading  officer. 

"General  Reynolds,"  said  he,  "the  village  of  Crazy 
Horse  is  not  more  than  five  miles  away.  You  must 
approach  with  caution,  but,  as  you  outnumber  them, 
I  feel  sure  that  there  can  be  but  one  outcome  of  the 
fight." 

The  officer  in  command  smiled  grimly. 

"Thank  you,  Lieutenant,"  said  he.  "You  have 
scouted  well.  We  will  be  all  prepared  for  a  brush 
with  my  old  friend  Crazy  Horse  within  an  hour." 

Then,  turning  about,  he  called: 
425 


426         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"Close  column,  men!  Tighten  saddlegirths,  and 
look  to  it  that  your  ammunition  is  all  ready.  We  are 
about  to  have  a  warm  affair/' 

As  the  men  busied  themselves  with  their  arms  and 
accoutrements,  a  lean  timber  wolf  sneaked  from  behind 
a  small  bunch  of  cotton  wood  trees.  Sitting  on  his 
haunches,  he  howled  dismally.  It  was  the  song  of 
death. 

What  did  this  alkali-covered  column  mean — there 
upon  the  bleak,  unpopulated  Wyoming  plains?  Why 
these  grim-visaged  warriors:  these  munitions  of  war: 
these  scouts  and  vigilant-eyed  officers  of  the  Govern 
ment?  It  meant  that  the  last  great  Indian  campaign 
had  begun;  and  that  within  the  course  of  a  year  the 
power  of  the  native  Americans  would  be  irrevocably 
broken.  The  country  of  the  Sioux  was  encircled  by 
the  forts  and  agencies  of  the  white  men.  A  railroad 
now  crossed  the  continent  and  ran  through  the  land 
of  the  elk  and  the  buffalo.  Surrounded  by  their  civi 
lized  enemies,  the  Indians  determined  to  make  one 
last  desperate  stand  against  the  whites. 

Sitting  Bull,  an  Unkpapa  chief  and  medicine  man, 
was  the  real  leader  of  the  Sioux.  His  were  the  brains 
which  conceived  and  executed  the  movements  of  the 
warriors.  But  Crazy  Horse,  an  Oglala,  was  the  true 
leader  in  time  of  battle.  Sitting  Bull  was  the  Grant, 
and  Crazy  Horse  the  Sheridan,  of  the  Sioux  army. 
One  conceived  and  the  other  executed. 

There  was  plenty  of  ammunition  among  the  savages, 
and  they  were  as  well  armed  as  the  soldiers.  There 
were  still  many  buffalo  in  the  country  of  the  red  men, 


SITTING  BULL  427 

and  of  food  and  clothing  they  had  abundance.  Their 
women  and  children  were  with  them.  Their  ponies 
were  many.  Their  warriors  numbered  several  thousand. 
And,  realizing  that  they  were  now  encircled  and  en 
veloped  by  their  hated  enemies,  they  determined  to 
make  a  last,  desperate  resistance  to  the  power  of  the 
Government,  which  had  determined,  late  in  1876,  that 
thereafter  all  Indians  in  the  Northwest  must  live  upon 
the  reservations. 

"God  made  me  an  Indian,  but  not  a  Reservation 
Indian/'  Sitting  Bull  had  said. 

"The  Great  Spirit  has  told  me  that  I  shall  defeat 
the  whites,"  Crazy  Horse  had  added. 

Thus,  stimulated  with  a  just  pride  in  their  own  strength 
and  resources,  the  Sioux  retreated  to  the  region  of  the 
Big  Horn  mountains,  determined  to  retain  their  in 
dependence,  and  to  drive  off  the  whites.  They  were 
patriots  fighting  for  the  soil  which  they  had  been  born 
upon.  They  fought  gamely,  desperately,  mercilessly: 
until  beaten  in  detail  by  the  superior  ability  of  the 
whites,  they  at  last  were  forced  to  a  peaceable  life 
upon  the  Government  reservations. 

General  Reynolds  soon  found  the  Indians.  Under 
fire  from  a  band  of  warriors  upon  the  hills,  his  men 
charged  upon  the  camp  of  Crazy  Horse  and  drove  the 
redskins  to  a  high  bluff.  While  shot  at  very  heavily 
by  the  warriors,  the  soldiers  began  to  destroy  the 
tepees.  The  fire  from  the  followers  of  Crazy  Horse 
grew  more  and  more  accurate.  In  spite  of  a  stout 
resistance  by  the  troopers,  the  redskins  began  to  push 
them  very  hard.  They  soon  had  found  the  range  of 


428         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  camp,  and  many  of  the  cavalrymen  went  down 
before  their  accurate  aim.  Suddenly  Reynolds  ordered 
a  retreat — so  suddenly  that  the  bodies  of  several  of 
his  men  were  left  behind  to  the  fury  of  the  Sioux,  while 
one  wounded  man,  it  is  said,  was  abandoned  to  an 
awful  fate  among  the  hostiles. 

As  is  always  the  case  when  white  men  move  back 
before  red,  the  followers  of  Crazy  Horse  grew  more  and 
more  bold  as  the  whites  withdrew.  It  was  bitterly 
cold — so  cold  that  the  soldiers  suffered  intensely  from 
the  zero  weather.  Following  the  example  of  Crazy 
Horse,  the  red  men  made  a  vigorous  attack  upon  Rey 
nolds'  force,  and,  by  a  bold  and  impetuous  advance, 
succeeded  in  recapturing  seven  hundred  of  their  own 
ponies  which  the  troopers  were  driving  before  them. 
After  this  they  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with  their  actions, 
and,  apparently  unmindful  of  the  freezing  temperature, 
rode  quietly  and  joyously  back  to  their  own  camp.  All 
the  honors  were  with  Crazy  Horse,  and  he  was  the  hero 
of  the  western  plains. 

What  General  Crook  said  when  Reynolds  returned 
is  not  worthy  of  repetition,  for  he  was  the  commanding 
officer  of  this  expedition  against  the  Sioux  and  was 
hastening  to  the  assistance  of  that  officer  with  his 
infantry  and  wagons.  It  was  a  disgraceful  affair  from 
the  viewpoint  of  the  Americans,  but  in  the  camp  of 
the  Sioux  there  was  dancing  and  song.  "The  Great 
Spirit  is  upon  our  side/'  chanted  the  warriors.  "We 
shall  drive  the  palefaces  into  the  land  of  the  setting 
sun.  We  shall  again  sleep  in  peace  upon  the  prairie." 
But  they  could  not  read  the  signs  aright. 


SITTING  BULL  429 

At  Fort  Fetterman,  Wyoming,  nine  hundred  cavalry 
men  and  three  hundred  infantry  were  soon  in  motion 
against  the  Indians.  Crook  was  in  command  of  this, 
the  most  efficient  force  which  had  ever  been  sent  against 
the  Sioux.  He  was  an  officer  of  large  experience,  and 
so,  on  May  29th.,  1876,  began  the  advance,  before  the 
weather  was  too  hot  for  campaigning.  Past  the  ruins 
of  old  Fort  Phil  Kearney  marched  the  dusty  column; 
past  the  beetling  cliffs  of  the  mountains;  the  great 
stretches  of  glorious  prairie  covered  with  variegated 
wild  flowers  and  the  bleaching  skulls  of  buffalo;  on 
through  the  deep  defiles  and  coulies  of  the  numerous 
crystal  streams  which  rippled  through  this  glorious 
plateau,  until,  on  June  9th.,  the  army  encamped  upon 
the  south  side  of  the  Tongue  River.  Here  a  message 
was  received  from  Crazy  Horse,  which  said: 

"If  you  cross  my  river,  my  warriors  will  take  your 
scalps.  Go  back  into  your  own  country  and  leave  me 
and  my  children  alone." 

But  Crook  had  no  intention  of  going  back.  Instead 
of  that,  he  remained  where  he  was  and  laughed  at  the 
threats  of  Crazy  Horse:  the  vainglorious. 

At  half-past  six  the  cry  of  "Indians!  Indians!" 
roused  the  weary  troopers  from  their  preparations. 
Crash!  Crash!  came  two  rattling  volleys,  and  from  the 
bluffs  across  the  river  arose  the  wild  war  whoops  of 
the  followers  of  the  great  Sioux  leader,  who  had  begun 
to  make  good  his  threat. 

Springing  to  their  feet,  the  soldiers  immediately 
formed  in  line  of  battle  and  replied  to  the  shots  of  the 
redskin  braves.  Imagining  that  the  canvas  tents  of 


430         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

the  white  men  were  full  of  soldiers,  the  Sioux  directed 
their  fire  upon  them,  and  the  camp  was  swept  with 
bullets.  Fortunately  the  troops  had  run  out  into  the 
open,  and,  forming  in  a  long  skirmish  line,  vigorously 
replied  to  the  fire  of  the  warlike  followers  of  Crazy 
Horse.  The  mess  chests  in  camp  were  split  with  bul 
lets;  several  horses  were  struck;  the  wagons  were  splin 
tered  by  the  leaden  balls;  a  few  tent  ropes  were  cut; 
and  the  shelters  toppled  to  the  ground.  "Cross  the 
river  with  your  battalion  and  charge  the  enemy!" 
shouted  General  Crook  to  Captain  Mills,  and,  as  the 
troopers  splashed  through  the  water  with  bugles  blaring 
and  pennons  fluttering,  he  turned  to  a  young  lieutenant, 
and  said:  "Now  watch  them  retreat!  Nothing  can 
stand  this  advance!" 

With  fierce  war  whoops  the  Indians  greeted  the  charge 
of  the  troopers,  and,  aiming  at  them,  endeavored  to 
keep  them  away.  They  did  not  realize  that  the  men 
under  Mills  were  old-time  fighters,  and,  not  at  all 
frightened  at  their  rifle  fire,  charged  upon  them  vig 
orously.  Meanwhile  the  long-range  rifles  of  the  other 
troopers  began  to  find  them;  so,  waiting  until  the 
whites  had  reached  the  very  top  of  the  bluffs,  they 
suddenly  broke  and  fled.  Few  of  their  numbers  had 
been  wounded,  and  they  had  not  killed  a  single  United 
States  soldier. 

Leaving  a  portion  of  his  men  to  guard  the  baggage 
and  wagons,  Crook  now  pushed  on  after  the  retreating 
Crazy  Horse.  In  a  few  days  he  had  reached  a  large, 
rolling  bit  of  prairie,  surrounded  by  high  bluffs,  near 
the  Rosebud  River.  He  camped  here,  while  some  of 


SITTING  BULL  431 

his  Crow  and  Shoshone  Indian  scouts  went  on  a  buffalo 
hunt.  Crazy  Horse  had  his  own  scouts  out  watching 
the  movements  of  the  oncoming  column,  and  when 
he  saw  them  in  such  a  favorable  position  for  attack, 
he,  himself,  began  the  battle.  In  this  he  showed  a 
confidence  that  few  Indians  had  ever  exhibited. 

It  was  half-past  eight  upon  a  gloriously  bright  morn 
ing,  when  rifle  shots  sounded  from  the  bluffs  over  which 
the  Indian  scouts  had  disappeared.  A  cloud  of  dust 
soon  arose  upon  the  skyline,  and  galloping  into  camp 
came  a  few  of  the  Crow  and  Shoshone  scouts.  They 
were  yelping  with  fright. 

" Sioux!  Sioux!  Heap  Sioux!"  they  shouted.  "They 
are  coming!  Get  ready!" 

The  bugle  blared  the  call  to  arms,  and  immediately 
the  troopers  fell  in.  They  were  none  too  soon,  for, 
suddenly,  out  on  the  plain  before  them  came  hundreds 
of  painted  warriors.  Crazy  Horse  had  joined  forces 
with  Sitting  Bull.  Their  combined  commands  were 
determined  to  crush  Crook's  column,  as  Red  Cloud  had 
annihilated  Fetterman.  Gay  with  paint  and  war  bon 
nets,  they  streamed  out  upon  the  plain,  yelling  their 
savage  war  songs,  and  firing  their  rifles  at  long  range. 
The  feathers  from  their  head-dresses  floated  out  in 
the  wind;  their  war  ponies  were  grotesquely  painted; 
their  entire  bodies  were  bright  with  brilliant  buckskin 
or  yellow  ochre.  They  circled  around  like  blackbirds 
upon  a  field  of  grain.  Thousands  seemed  to  be  in 
sight,  and  they  were  apparently  little  afraid  of  the 
resolute-looking  forces  before  them. 

It  did  not  take  Crook  long  to  give  his  orders.  "  Charge, 


432         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

with  your  troop,  in  front/'  he  shouted  to  Mills.  "Van 
Vliet,  take  your  squadron  to  the  rear  and  keep  the 
Indians  from  circling  round  us.  To  the  left  Roy  all  and 
Henry's  battalion  will  charge.  The  infantry  and  part 
of  the  Second  cavalry  will  hold  the  centre!" 

The  fight  was  now  on  in  earnest.  Mills'  troopers 
struggled  through  a  bog;  raced  across  a  long  stretch  of 
prairie,  and  rushed  up  the  bluffs  upon  which  the  Sioux 
were  riding  around  in  a  circular  motion.  They  dashed 
upon  the  Indians  with  revolvers  drawn.  Firing  them 
in  the  very  faces  of  the  red  men,  they  nearly  reached 
the  hostile  line,  when  the  Sioux  broke  and  fled  to  a 
second  ridge.  Charging  them  here  was  quick  work 
for  the  cavalrymen.  But  the  savages  would  not  stand 
and  galloped  off  to  a  safe  distance.  As  the  troopers 
dismounted  to  form  a  skirmish  line,  the  redskins  circled 
about  them,  kicking  up  clouds  of  alkali  dust,  yelping 
like  mad  men,  and  firing  at  intervals.  They  only 
wounded  one  or  two  of  their  assailants. 

The  soldiers  under  Royal,  Henry  and  Van  Vliet  had 
equal  success  in  driving  back  the  Sioux,  until  Henry 
was  severely  injured  by  a  bullet  which  struck  him  in 
the  face.  The  friendly  Crows  and  Shoshones  fell  upon 
the  flanks  of  the  followers  of  Crazy  Horse,  about  this 
time,  but  did  little  damage.  The  numbers  of  Sioux 
seemed  to  increase  every  moment,  and,  when  Henry 
fell,  they  attacked  with  some  spirit.  Twice  the  red 
skins  galloped  across  his  prostrate  form,  but  luckily 
he  was  not  hit  by  the  ponies'  hoofs.  His  men  rallied 
and  rushed  to  his  rescue.  There  was  fierce  fighting 
over  the  body  of  the  gallant  cavalryman — such  fight- 


SITTING  BULL  433 

ing  as  at  Cressy,  Agincourt  and  Poitiers,  when  men 
fought  hand-to-hand.  Clouds  of  dust  arose  from  the 
feet  of  the  plunging  horses;  the  air  resounded  with  the 
fierce  wails  of  the  Indians;  while  the  crack,  crack  of 
rifles  spat  their  slogans  of  death  above  the  tumult  of 
the  fray.  Mills  was  withdrawn  to  gallop  down  a  canon 
in  order  to  attack  the  village  of  Crazy  Horse,  and,  as 
his  troopers  disappeared,  the  Indians  seemed  to  grow 
less  eager  to  advance.  Gradually  their  rifle  fire  slack 
ened;  they  turned  their  ponies'  heads  towards  their 
village;  and  soon  went  off  down  the  sides  of  a  deep 
canon.  For  two  hours  this  conflict  had  lasted,  and  the 
honors  had  been  about  even. 

When  Mills  dashed  down  the  canon  with  eight  troops 
of  cavalry,  he  confidently  expected  to  gallop  into  the 
Indian  village  and  annihilate  what  reserve  Crazy  Horse 
had  left  behind  him.  His  men  moved  rapidly  and  had 
come  within  a  short  distance  of  the  tepees,  when  firing 
was  heard  in  front. 

"Halt!"  shouted  Mills.  "Cinch  up  saddlegirths ! 
load  revolvers,  and  see  that  your  ammunition  in  your 
guns  is  properly  adjusted!" 

No  sooner  had  he  halted  than  an  aide  came  galloping 
up  from  the  rear. 

"Mills,"  said  Nickerson,  the  courier,  "Royall  has 
been  badly  handled;  there  are  many  wounded.  Henry 
is  severely  hurt,  and  Vroom's  troop  is  all  cut  up.  The 
General  orders  that  you  and  Noyes  defile  by  your  left 
flank  out  of  the  canon  and  return,  at  once,  to  the  field. 
He  cannot  move  out  to  support  you  and  the  rest,  on 
account  of  the  wounded." 


434         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"I  will  not  obey/7  said  Mills  at  first,  so  anxious  was 
he  to  reach  the  village;  but,  thinking  better  of  his 
resolution,  he  ordered  his  men  to  turn  to  the  left  and 
defile  out  of  the  canon.  It  was  well  that  he  had  done 
so,  for  just  below  was  a  great  dam,  covered  with  logs 
and  broken  timber.  It  was  a  trap  laid  by  Crazy  Horse. 
Here  he  had  massed  a  great  body  of  Indians,  and  had 
the  eight  troops  of  cavalry  advanced,  they  would  have 
been  annihilated. 

This  ended  the  operations  for  the  day.  Crook  camped 
upon  the  battlefield.  Ten  of  his  soldiers  had  been 
killed,  and  twenty-seven  had  been  seriously  wounded. 
It  is  true  that  he  had  driven  the  followers  of  Crazy 
Horse  from  the  scene  of  conflict,  but,  as  he  himself 
had  exhausted  all  his  ammunition  and  a  larger  part  of 
his  supplies,  he  was  forced  to  retreat  to  his  base.  Crazy 
Horse  had  protected  his  own  village,  crippled  his  ad 
versary,  and  had  withdrawn  in  peace  and  security.  He. 
had  stopped  the  further  progress  of  the  expedition  and 
had  fought  a  drawn  battle  with  one  of  the  ablest  of 
Indian  fighters.  His  reputation  and  prowess  among  his 
own  people  was  thus  increased  tenfold,  and  he  was  the 
idol  of  his  nation. 

The  great  numbers  of  savages  under  Crazy  Horse  and 
Sitting  Bull  soon  camped  further  north  in  the  valley 
of  the  Little  Big  Horn.  Here  on  June  the  25th.,  1876, 
they  were  attacked  by  General  Custer.  In  "  Famous 
Cavalry  Leaders,"  I  have  fully  described  the  great 
fight  which  there  took  place,  so  it  is  useless  to  speak 
further  of  this  famous  affair.  Custer,  and  the  greater 
portion  of  his  command,  were  annihilated.  The  Indians 


SITTING  BULL  435 

escaped  towards  the  Northeast,  and,  eluding  the  vigilance 
of  Gibbon  and  Terry,  were  soon  hastening  towards  the 
Canadian  border. 

After  the  defeat  of  General  Ouster,  the  Government 
realized  that  the  Sioux  war  was  a  more  serious  affair 
than  they  had  at  first  considered.  Reinforcements 
were  hurried  into  the  country  of  the  hostiles,  and  Crook 
and  Terry  were  ordered  to  press  after  the  Sioux  with 
the  utmost  celerity.  As  Terry's  forces  were  in  bad 
condition,  and  were  soon  withdrawn  from  the  field, 
Crook  alone  was  left  in  active  pursuit  of  the  retreating 
bands  of  Crazy  Horse  and  Sitting  Bull.  He  chased 
them  through  the  burning  solitudes  of  that  vast  Northern 
wasteland  like  a  veritable  bloodhound.  Through  rain, 
snow  and  drought  his  weary  troopers  kept  after  the 
Indians.  During  the  heated  summer  months  there  was 
no  forage  for  the  horses,  and  the  rations  of  the  men 
became  wellnigh  exhausted.  The  savages  had  swept 
the  country  free  of  game.  They,  too,  were  suffering 
from  lack  of  subsistence,  but  their  condition  was  never 
as  bad  as  that  of  the  troopers  under  Crook. 

On,  on,  went  this  indefatigable  column;  now  sub 
sisting  upon  mule  and  horse  meat;  now  thankful  for 
a  few  raw  onions  which  grew  in  the  hollows  unbaked 
by  the  blinding  sun.  Finally,  when  the  supply  of 
rations  was  reduced  to  two  and  one-half  days',  Crook 
realized  that  his  men  would  all  die  of  starvation  if 
forage  and  food  were  not  at  once  secured.  It  was 
either  food,  or  death  in  the  wilderness. 

One  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  best  men,  with  the  last 
of  the  mules  and  the  best  horses,  were  formed  into  an 


436          FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

advance  party  under  Captain  Anson  Mills,  of  the  Third 
Cavalry,  and  sent  to  Deadwood  City  in  the  Black  Hills 
to  get  provisions.  They  pushed  on,  little  expecting  to 
see  Indians.  But  at  a  place  called  Slim  Buttes,  in  the 
northwest  corner  of  South  Dakota,  the  scouts  discovered 
a  large  village  of  forty  or  fifty  lodges  of  the  Sioux, 
pitched  upon  the  banks  of  a  small  stream  called  Rabbit 
Creek.  American  Horse — a  prominent  chief— was  here 
in  command,  and  he  was  a  good  fighter.  But  Mills 
determined  to  attack  the  camp  at  once  and  made  his 
dispositions  with  care. 

The  attack  was  a  complete  success,  and  the  village 
was  taken  with  but  little  loss.  Some  of  the  Sioux  were 
killed  and  others  were  captured.  Many  escaped  through 
the  ravines  to  a  plateau  surrounding  the  valley,  and, 
throwing  up  rifle  pits,  determined  to  sell  their  lives 
dear  rather  than  to  surrender.  Several  took  refuge 
in  a  cave,  and,  when  commanded  to  come  out,  replied 
with  jeers  and  taunts,  saying:  " Crazy  Horse  will  soon 
be  here,  and  he  will  rescue  us."  American  Horse  was 
with  these  warriors,  and  he  fought  like  an  ancient  Greek. 

Mills  promptly  dispatched  a  courier  to  Crook,  on  the 
fleetest  horse  in  his  command,  to  ask  for  reinforcements 
at  once.  Then  he  vigorously  assaulted  the  cave.  The 
little  band  inside  sold  their  lives  dearly,  and  even  the 
women  used  guns  with  good  effect.  But  no  one  could 
have  stood  up  against  the  rain  of  bullets  that  was 
showered  into  the  cavern.  American  Horse  surrendered, 
and  when  Crazy  Horse — with  some  six  hundred  war 
riors — came  galloping  up  to  the  ridge,  where  some  of 
his  followers  had  hidden,  he  was  too  late.  Crook  had 


Courtesy  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  Smithsonian  Institute. 
AMERICAN   HORSE. 


SITTING  BULL  437 

joined  with  Mills.  Imagining  that  only  a  few  men 
were  there  before  him,  Crazy  Horse  charged  upon  the 
troopers,  yelling  his  war  song  with  all  the  fervor  that 
had  rung  at  the  battles  of  the  Rosebud  and  Little  Big 
Horn.  He  was  greatly  astonished  at  the  numbers  of 
his  antagonists,  and,  realizing  his  mistake,  retired  to 
the  tops  of  some  tall  buttes  with  the  soldiers  after  him. 

Now  occurred  one  of  the  most  picturesque  battles 
of  the  West.  The  Sioux  were  all  around  upon  the 
buttes  and  were  silhouetted  against  the  sky.  Steadily 
the  soldiers  advanced  against  them  up  the  sides  of  the 
cliff.  They  scaled  it  under  fire  and  reached  the  level 
plateau  upon  which  Crazy  Horse  and  his  men  were 
scattered.  With  a  loud  cheer  they  charged  the  red 
skins  upon  the  run.  The  Sioux  divided;  fled;  and  left 
the  field  and  camp  to  the  troopers.  In  their  camp 
were  found  many  letters  belonging  to  Custer's  men 
which  had  been  sealed,  ready  for  mailing,  when  they 
had  been  annihilated  at  the  Little  Big  Horn.  There 
were  also  books,  saddles  and  equipment  of  the  "  Fight 
ing  Seventh."  Thus,  that  which  had  been  lost  came 
back  to  the  men  of  the  army  and  brought  many  tearful 
recollections  of  the  gallant  men  who  had  been  killed 
with  Custer. 

Sitting  Bull  was  in  Montana  and  still  unfriendly. 
Troops  were  put  in  motion  to  bring  him  to  terms, 
under  General  Nelson  A.  Miles.  It  was  the  winter  of 
1876-7  and  a  severe  one,  but  the  soldiers  had  fur  boots, 
fur  caps  and  clothing  of  the  thickest  texture.  With 
such  provision  they  could  easily  move  and  fight  in  the 
zero  temperature  of  that  northern  land. 


438         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

On  October  18th.,  a  wagon  load  of  supplies  from  Glen- 
dive,  Montana,  was  attached  by  the  Sioux,  and,  after 
the  hostiles  had  been  driven  off,  the  troops  who  escorted 
the  train  moved  to  a  place  called  Clear  Creek.  The 
Indians  followed,  and,  during  a  lull  in  the  hostilities,  a 
messenger  rode  out  from  their  lines,  waving  a  paper, 
which  he  left  upon  a  hill,  stuck  between  two  forks  of 
a  stick.  When  it  was  picked  up,  it  read: 

"  YELLOWSTONE. 

I  want  to  know  what  you  are  doing  travelling  on 
this  road.  You  scare  all  the  buffalo  away.  I  want  to 
hunt  in  this  place.  I  want  you  to  turn  back  from  here. 
If  you  don't,  I'll  fight  you  again.  I  want  you  to  leave 
what  you  have  got  here,  and  turn  back  from  here. 

I  am  your  friend, 

SITTING  BULL. 

I  mean  all  the  rations  you  have  got  and  some  powder. 
Wish  you  would  write  me  as  soon  as  you  can." 

Several  days  later  General  Miles,  with  nearly  four 
hundred  troopers,  overtook  Sitting  Bull  on  Clear  Creek. 
There  were  one  thousand  warriors  with  him  of  the 
Miniconjous,  San  Arcs,  B  rules  and  Unkpapas,  together 
with  their  wives  and  children.  A  meeting  was  ar 
ranged  with  the  old  chief,  but  the  wily  Sioux  refused 
to  come  into  the  Reservation.  He  became  engaged,  as 
he  talked,  and  his  manner  seemed  more  that  of  a  wild 
beast  than  a  human  being.  "He  finally  gave  an  ex 
hibition  of  wild  frenzy.  His  face  assumed  a  furious 
expression.  His  jaws  were  tightly  closed,  his  lips  were 


SITTING  BULL  439 

compressed,  and  you  could  see  his  eyes  glisten  with 
the  fire  of  savage  hatred." 

A  young  warrior  stole  out  of  the  Indian  lines,  as 
the  conversation  progressed,  and  slipped  a  carbine 
beneath  his  blanket.  Several  others  followed  him,  and 
gathered  around  Sitting  Bull  as  if  they  meant  treachery. 
Miles,  who  had  only  a  revolver,  ordered  these  savages 
to  retire,  and,  obeying  reluctantly,  they  withdrew. 
Sitting  Bull  argued  like  a  conqueror;  he  would  not 
come  into  the  reservation;  he  wanted  the  troops  to 
leave  the  country.  He  spoke  this  way  in  two  con 
ferences,  and,  seeing  that  nothing  could  be  accomplished 
by  further  parley,  Miles  told  the  chief  to  prepare  for 
fighting,  for  he  intended  to  attack  immediately — in 
five  minutes.  Taking  his  watch  in  his  hand,  he  counted 
off  the  time;  while  the  savages,  shouting  defiance, 
galloped  back  to  their  own  lines. 

Suddenly,  smoke  ascended  from  the  Indian  camp. 
The  Sioux  had  fired  the  prairie  grass.  In  the  midst 
of  clouds  of  flame  and  smoke  the  troops  pressed  home 
the  attack  upon  the  hostiles.  Although  Sitting  Bull's 
warriors  far  outnumbered  the  whites,  they  were  driven 
away  from  their  camp.  Under  the  leadership  of  Gall 
and  other  warriors,  they  charged  wildly  upon  the  Gov 
ernment  troops.  Sitting  Bull — as  at  the  Custer  massa 
cre — did  not  appear  upon  the  firing  line,  but  remained 
in  the  rear,  giving  directions.  He  was  a  better  talker 
than  fighter  and  believed  in  allowing  the  young  bloods 
to  do  the  actual  campaigning.  They  fought  hard,  too, 
and  at  one  time  pressed  the  whites  so  closely  that — 
like  Wellington's  men  at  Waterloo— they  were  forced 


440         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

to  form  in  hollow  squares.  The  Indians  were  driven 
for  forty  miles. 

Seeing  that  they  could  do  nothing  with  the  troops, 
many  of  the  Sioux  broke  into  small  bands  and  scattered. 
Two  thousand  of  them,  however,  came  in  on  the  third 
day  and  surrendered.  Sitting  Bull  refused  to  think  of 
such  a  measure,  and,  making  for  the  Canadian  boundary 
line,  rode  off  into  British  territory.  His  depleted  and 
starving  camp  was  subsequently  attacked,  in  mid-winter, 
by  a  detachment  under  Lieutenant  Baldwin,  and  was 
still  further  crippled.  Game  to  the  last,  he  threw  himself 
upon  the  protection  of  England,  crossed  the  Canadian 
line,  and  lived  for  some  years  in  peaceful  security. 

At  last,  realizing  that  he  would  be  better  off  in  his 
old  hunting  grounds,  he  returned  to  the  United  States 
and  surrendered  to  the  army.  A  large  territory  was 
assigned  to  the  Sioux  as  a  reservation,  and  an  Indian 
agency  established  at  Pine  Ridge,  in  South  Dakota. 
This  place  became  the  rallying  point  for  the  scattered 
bands  of  Sioux  who  still  looked  to  Sitting  Bull  for 
counsel.  Supported  in  idleness  by  the  Government, 
and  occasionally  exhibiting  himself  with  Buffalo  Bill's 
"Wild  West  Show,"  the  noted  chief  lived  for  some  time 
in  great  contentment.  But  within  him  slumbered  a 
deep  dislike  and  distrust  of  the  whites.  He  was  one 
of  the  prime  movers  of  the  Ghost  Dance  uprising  in 
1890,  and,  while  resisting  arrest,  was  killed  by  an  Indian 
policeman.  Peace  to  the  aged  counsellor  and  sachem 
of  the  Sioux! 

Crazy  Horse  had  still  one  more  fight  in  him  before 
he,  too,  was  forced  to  capitulate. 


SITTING  BULL  441 

Late  in  December  of  1876,  Miles  started  after  this 
gallant  fighter,  who  was  supposed  to  be  in  the  valley 
of  the  Tongue  River,  south  of  the  Yellowstone.  He 
found  his  village  not  far  from  the  place  where  Crook 
had  battled  on  the  Rosebud.  There  were  between  eight 
and  nine  hundred  warriors  posted  on  the  cliffs  surround 
ing  a  valley  of  the  Wolf  Mountains, — a  spur  of  the  Big 
Horn  Range.  The  position  was  a  good  one,  because  the 
soldiers  had  to  scale  some  bristling  heights  to  get  at  the 
savages,  but  they  were  equal  to  the  emergency. 

"You  have  had  your  last  breakfast,"  shouted  the 
red  warriors  as  the  soldiers  began  to  climb  up  to  their 
position.  "You  will  not  eat  again."  But  they  did 
not  know  with  whom  they  were  dealing.  Undaunted 
by  the  superior  position  of  the  red  men,  and  unfrightened 
by  their  jeers,  the  soldiers  crept  up  the  face  of  the  cliffs, 
as  the  shells  from  their  artillery  exploded  among  the 
followers  of  the  gallant  Crazy  Horse.  The  bluffs  were 
icy  and  snow-covered.  It  was  rough  work  to  scale 
them;  it  was  only  accomplished  after  slow,  dogged, 
determined  crawling,  with  a  halt  every  moment  or  so 
to  fire  at  some  Indian  above.  The  plunging  shots  of 
the  savages  did  little  damage,  for  their  aim  was  un 
steady.  The  red  men  clung  to  their  post  tenaciously, 
but  they  were  routed — driven  off — and  forced  back  upon 
the  plateau  in  the  rear.  Snow  was  now  falling,  and  the 
combatants  fired  at  each  other  in  a  blinding  blizzard. 

This  was  the  last  stand  of  Crazy  Horse  and  his  band, 
for  their  ammunition  was  about  gone,  and,  not  pos 
sessing  the  knowledge  necessary  to  manufacture  more, 
they  were  unable  to  prolong  their  resistance.  Their 


442         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

confederates  were  nearly  all  captured.  Sitting  Bull  was 
miles  away  and  could  not  be  reached.  The  Brule 
Sioux  and  Unkpapas  had  surrendered.  Their  supplies 
were  in  the  hands  of  General  Miles  and  his  men.  Their 
fate  was  sealed. 

In  the  early  spring  Crazy  Horse  surrendered,  with 
the  remnant  of  his  once  formidable  band  of  frontier 
fighters.  He  was  placed  in  a  reservation  of  the  Brule 
Sioux  at  the  Red  Cloud  Agency.  "  He  did  not  surrender 
with  the  humility  of  a  defeated,  broken-spirited  chief," 
Major-General  Jesse  W.  Lee  has  written  me.  "He  was 
an  unsubdued  warrior;  a  great  soldier  chief;  and  had 
come  in  to  make  such  terms  as  would  bring  peace  and 
rest  to  his  people,  who  had  scarcely  known  defeat  under 
his  valiant  leadership.  To  his  mind  there  was  no  un 
conditional  surrender  about  it.  He  was  willing,  for  a 
time,  to  give  up  the  uncertain  buffalo  for  the-  certain 
Agency  beef;  to  exchange  the  old,  worn-out  skin  lodges 
for  new  and  handsome  army  duck." 

But  Crazy  Horse  chafed  under  the  restraints  of  the 
agency.  He  was  restless,  uneasy  and  unsatisfied  »vith 
the  tame  conditions  which  he  found.  He  was  watched 
by  detectives  and  was  closely  guarded,  but  one  day 
escaped  and  came  to  Spotted  Tail:  another  rendezvous 
of  the  Sioux,  forty  miles  away.  Trouble  was  feared 
from  him,  and  what  subsequently  occurred  is  best  told 
in  the  language  of  General  Lee,  who  was  there  at  the 
time,  in  charge  of  the  Brule  Sioux  at  Spotted  Tail 
Agency  in  Northwestern  Nebraska.  He  says: 

"We  soon  called  the  chiefs  together  and  told  them 
that  probably  some  trouble  might  occur  at  Red  Cloud, 


SITTING  BULL  443 

but  it  must  not  affect  them,  and  for  all  to  remain  per 
fectly  quiet  and  have  no  fear.  We  then  had  only  to 
wait!  Imagine,  if  you  please,  being  compelled  to  sit 
down  over  a  powder  magazine,  with  sparks  flying 
around,  and  wondering  how  long  it  would  be  until  the 
blow-up  comes.  We  felt  certain  an  explosion  would 
occur,  but  uncertain  as  to  the  hurt  it  might  do.  Well, 
we  had  not  long  to  wait!  About  4  P.M.  an  Indian 
courier  arrived  in  the  Northern  camp — not  to  us\ — his 
quivering  horse  all  white  with  foam, — with  the  startling 
news  that  their  friends  were  righting  at  Red  Cloud,  and 
that  the  troops  were  coming  to  Spotted  Tail  Agency. 

"The  old  scout,  Joe  Merivale,  well  known  and  re 
spected  by  the  Northern  Indians,  had  been  sent  to 
their  camp  with  some  reliable  Agency  chiefs,  to  meet 
just  this  contingency  and  allay  excitement.  By  dint 
of  hard  effort  they  were  succeeding  fairly  well,  when 
Black  Crow  came  to  us  and  said,  "Crazy  Horse  is  in  the 
Northern  camp!"  This  came  like  a  clap  of  thunder 
from  a  clear  sky.  Could  it  be  possible,  after  all  the 
precautions,  spies,  detectives,  and  the  large  force  of 
troops  and  Indian  allies,  that  the  one  man  of  all  others 
they  wished  to  secure  had  made  good  his  escape  and  had 
come  to  our  Agency1? 

"The  arrival  of  the  Indian  courier  from  the  Indians 
had  produced  intense  excitement,  but  when  he  was 
soon  followed  by  Crazy  Horse,  there  was  a  wild  scene, 
beggaring  description.  The  bold  warrior,  the  venerated 
hero  of  his  band,  who  had  ever  led  them  to  victory,  was 
in  the  midst  of  devoted  friends,  and  to  them  a  hunted 
victim  of  rank  injustice  and  cruel  persecution. 


444         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"All  the  tepees  in  that  camp  came  down  with  magic 
swiftness,  and  had  it  not  been  for  White  Thunder,  and 
other  loyal  Bmles,  a  stampede  would  have  resulted 
at  once;  merciless  slaughter  of  unsuspecting  whites  on 
the  line  of  flight  would  probably  have  followed,  and 
another  Indian  war  inaugurated. 

"The  'reliables'  surrounded  and  harangued  the  camp 
and  restored  some  degree  of  quiet.  Word  was  sent  to 
the  Indians  under  Touch  the  Clouds,  to  bring  Crazy 
Horse  to  the  Post.  Major  Burke,  Dr.  Koerper  and 
myself,  with  an  interpreter,  started  for  the  Northern 
camp,  about  three  miles  from  the  Post.  When  over 
half  way  out,  we  met  over  three  hundred  armed  Indians 
in  good  line  of  battle,  not  so  much  guarding  as  escorting 
Crazy  Horse,  in  the  direction  of  the  Post.  There  were 
war  bonnets  and  war  shirts  in  profusion,  and  had  it 
not -been  for  a,  score  or  more  of  'reliables/  intermingled 
with  the  three  hundred,  we  might  have  had  serious 
trouble.  Touch  the  Clouds  was  on  one  side  of  the 
great  warrior  and  the  brave,  handsome  White  Thunder 
on  the  other,  with  the  austere  and  desperate  Black 
Crow  just  in  the  rear.  Just  here  I  would  add  that 
White  Thunder  and  Black  Crow  had  determined  to 
shoot  Crazy  Horse,  should  he  make  a  break. 

"We  took  Crazy  Horse  to  the  Post,  or  I  would  better 
say,  he  and  his  three  hundred  friends  were  taking  us 
there.  Just  as  we  reached  the  little  parade  ground  of 
Camp  Sheridan,  Spotted  Tail,  able  planner  that  he  was, 
arrived  from  another  direction,  with  not  less  than  three 
hundred  of  his  trusty  Brule  soldiers,  all  armed  with 
good  breech  loaders,  principally  Winchesters.  This 


SITTING  BULL  445 

number,  with  more  who  joined  soon  after,  gave  good 
solid  backing,  and,  with  our  ninety  soldiers  at  quarters, 
ready  to  aid  at  a  moment's  notice, — turned  the  scale 
and  kept  it  safely  in  our  favor.  As  if  by  intuition, 
these  forces  of  Indians  formed  on  either  side  of  a  walk, 
leaving  a  small  space,  about  6'x8',  in  the  center.  It  was 
a  wild,  weird  scene;  and  had  the  spectacle  been  for 
display,  it  would  have  been  grand  beyond  compare, 
but,  as  it  meant  most  serious  business,  and  was  fraught 
with  danger,  every  nerve  was  under  the  severest  strain. 
For  once,  Crazy  Horse  realized  that  his  prestige  had 
forsaken  him;  for  once  he  was  in  the  presence  of  one 
whose  mastery  he  dare  not,  then  and  there,  dispute. 
Spotted  Tail,  the  coolest*  man  of  all  the  assembled  hun 
dreds,  in  the  plain,  Indian  blanket  garb,  without  any 
insignia  of  chieftainship,  stepped  into  the  little  arena, 
and  in  a  few  words,  delivered  in  a  clear,  ringing  voice, 
with  dignity  and  eloquence,  addressed  Crazy  Horse, 
who  was  almost  within  touch:  'We  never  have  trouble 
here;  the  sky  is  clear;  the  air  is  still  and  free  from  dust! 
You  have  come  here  and  you  must  listen  to  me  and 
my  people!  7  am  chief  here.  We  keep  the  peace. 
We,  the  Brules,  .do  this!  They  obey  me!  and  every 
Indian  who  comes  here  must  listen  to  me!  You  say 
you  want  to  come  to  this  Agency  and  live  peaceably, 
If  you  stay  here,  you  must  listen  to  me.  That  is  all!' 
"It  is  hard  to  justly  render  an  Indian  speech,  es 
pecially  on  such  an  occasion;  but  had  you  heard  its 
telling  points  and  pauses,  emphasized  and  punctuated 
by  the  click  of  loaded  rifles,  you  would  have  thought  it 
one  of  the  most  effective  speeches  ever  delivered.  Its 


446         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

conclusion  was  greeted  with  four  hundred  vociferous 
'hows/  One  frenzied  Northern  Indian,  believing  his 
friend  Crazy  Horse  was  to  be  harmed,  wanted  to  sacrifice 
himself  in  his  place.  He  caught  hold  of  Major  Burke's 
arm  and  excitedly  exclaimed:  'Crazy  Horse  is  brave, 
but  he  feels  too  weak  to  die  today.  Kill  me!  Kill 
me!'  The  Brule  guns  were  already  loaded,  and  had  a 
shot  been  fired,  serious  trouble  would  have  begun. 

"After  a  few  more  words,  and  as  night  was  coming 
on,  the  crowds  dispersed,  and  we  got  Crazy  Horse 
into  Major  Burke's  quarters  to  have  a  talk.  He  seemed 
like  a  frightened,  trembling,  wild  animal,  brought  to 
bay,  hoping  for  confidence  one  moment  and  fearing 
treachery  the  next.  He  had  been  under  a  severe 
nervous  strain  all  day,  and  it  plainly  showed. 

"Before  proceeding  with  what  was  the  last  talk  or 
council,  let  me  go  back  a  little.  Soon  after  we  heard 
Crazy  Horse  had  reached  our  Agency,  a  courier  arrived 
from  Red  Cloud  with  the  following  message  from  Clark: 
'Dear  Lee: — There  has  been  no  fight.  Crazy  Horse's 
band  is  just  going  into  camp  and  will  give  up  their  guns 
without  trouble,  in  all  probability.  Crazy  Horse  has 
skipped  out  for  your  place.  Have  sent  after  him. 
Should  he  reach  your  Agency,  have  "Spot"  arrest  him, 
and  I  will  give  any  Indian  who  does  this,  $200.'  Soon 
thereafter,  a  squad  of  fifteen  or  twenty  Indian  scouts 
arrived  from  Red  Cloud,  having  been  sent  after  Crazy 
Horse  to  arrest  and  take  him  back.  It  was  understood 
then,  and  afterwards  known  to  be  a  fact,  that  they 
overtook  Crazy  Horse  as  he  was  riding  along  quite 
leisurely  with  his  sick  wife,  and  when  they  asked 


SITTING   BULL  447 

him  to  go  back  with  them,  the  prestige  of  his  name 
and  warlike  deeds  overawed  them  when  he  said:  '/ 
am  Crazy  Horse.  Don't  touch  mel  I'm  not  running 
away! ' 

"At  our  talk  in  Major  Burke's  quarters,  Crazy  Horse 
seemed  to  realize  his  helplessness.  We  assured  him 
we  had  no  reason  to  do  him  any  hurt;  and  he  promised, 
almost  at  the  outset,  to  go  with  me  next  day  to  Camp 
Robinson. 

"The  best  solution  of  the  matter  was  to  get  Crazy 
Horse  back  to  Red  Cloud  safely  and  quietly;  let  him 
make  his  talk  there  with  the  authorities,  who  could 
decide  what  should  be  done  as  to  granting  or  refusing 
his  desire  for  transfer  to  our  Agency.  He  said  he  wanted 
to  get  away  from  trouble,  that  he  had  brought  his  sick 
wife  to  be  treated  and  came  for  that  purpose  only.  I 
told  him  I  would  remember  what  he  said  and  repeat 
his  words  to  the  authorities  at  Robinson.  Several  of 
the  chiefs  were  held  responsible,  under  a  binding  Indian 
pledge,  for  Crazy  Horse's  safe  keeping  during  the  night 
and  his  reporting  to  Major  Burke  next  morning  at 
nine  o'clock. 

"Crazy  Horse  reported  at  the  appointed  time  next 
morning  and  said  he  had  changed  his  mind  about 
going  back  to  Red  Cloud,  because  he  'was  afraid 
something  would  happen.'  He  asked  us  to  go  down 
without  him  and  fix  up  the  matter  for  him  and  his 
people.  We  assured  him  we  had  no  thought  of  harming 
him  in  any  way;  that  he  owed  it  to  his  people  at  Red 
Cloud  to  return,  and  we  insisted  upon  his  return  peace 
ably  and  quietly,  to  which  he  agreed  upon  the  following 


448         FAMOUS   INDIAN  CHIEFS 

express  conditions,  which,  under  the  circumstances, 
Major  Burke  and  I  felt  we  had  a  perfect  right  to  make: 
first,  that  neither  Crazy  Horse  nor  myself  should  take 
any  arms;  second,  that  I  would  state  to  the  Soldier 
Chief  at  Red  Cloud  all  that  had  occurred  at  Spotted 
Tail  Agency,  and  that  if  Crazy  Horse  had  made  a  state 
ment  of  the  facts,  I  would  say  to  the  Soldier  Chief  that 
Major  Burke,  Spotted  Tail  and  I  were  willing  to  receive 
him  by  transfer  from  Red  Cloud,  if  the  District  Com 
mander  so  authorized;  that  Crazy  Horse  should  make 
his  statement  to  the  Soldier  Chief  as  to  what  occurred, 
how  'he  had  been  misunderstood  and  misinterpreted; 
that  he  wanted  peace  and  quiet,  and  did  not  want  any 
trouble  whatever.7 

11  We  made  Crazy  Horse  no  promise  that  he  would 
be  transferred  to  Spotted  Tail  Agency,  because  we  knew 
and  he  knew  that  could  be  settled  only  by  the  higher 
authority  at  Red  Cloud.  Boiled  down  to  a  simple 
statement,  our  promise  to  Crazy  Horse  was  that  he 
should  be  heard  on  his  own  behalf,  upon  arrival  at  Red 
Cloud.  On  this  condition,  he  was  willing  to  return 
peaceably,  and  with  Major  Burke's  express  consent,  / 
guaranteed  its  fulfillment. 

"Crazy  Horse  asked  to  ride  horseback,  which  request 
was  granted.  We  started  from  the  Northern  camp 
about  10.30  on  the  morning  of  September  5th.  In  the 
ambulance  with  me  were  Louis  Bordeau,  the  interpreter, 
Black  Crow  and  Swift  Bear,  two  reliable  Agency  chiefs, 
and  High  Bear  and  Touch  the  Clouds,  Crazy  Horse's 
friends.  By  consent,  seven  Northern  Indians  went 
along  to  see  fair  play,  but  Good  Voice  and  Horned 


SITTING  BULL  449 

Antelope,  two  'reliables/  rode  with  Crazy  Horse,  to 
take  care  of  him  and  prevent  his  escape. 

"When  about  fifteen  miles  out,  small  parties  of 
Spotted  Tail's  Indian  soldiers  began  to  arrive,  and 
when  half  way,  about  twenty  miles,  I  had  over  forty 
reliable  Indian  soldiers.  Crazy  Horse  then  realized 
that  he  was  practically  a  prisoner. 

"At  one  time,  Crazy  Horse  dashed  ahead  and  dis 
appeared  for  a  moment  over  the  brow  of  a  hill  one 
hundred  yards  away.  'Twas  here  he  probably  obtained 
a  knife  of  an  Indian  family  stampeding  to  Spotted 
Tail.  He  was  soon  overhauled  and  said  he  went  ahead 
only  to  water  his  horse.  He  was  then  directed  to  ride 
immediately  in  the  rear  of  my  ambulance,  and  he  saw 
at  once  he  was  closely  guarded.  He  seemed  nervous 
and  bewildered,  and  his  serious  expression  showed 
clearly  he  was  doubtful  of  the  outcome.  He  said  but 
little,  but  his  appealing  looks  seemed  to  ask,  'Is  this 
treachery  ?'  Ignorant  of  what  was  in  store  for  him,  I 
tried  to  reassure  his  friends  by  telling  them  not  to  worry, 
that  I  would  do  exactly  as  had  been  promised,  present 
his  case,  and  he  could  be  heard  also. 

"When  within  fifteen  miles  of  Red  Cloud,  I  sent  a 
note  to  Clark  by  a  swift  Indian  courier,  asking  whether 
I  should  take  Crazy  Horse  to  Post  or  Agency.  I  also 
stated  briefly  and  explicitly  that  we  had  to  use  tact 
and  discretion  in  securing  Crazy  Horse  without  precipi 
tating  serious  trouble,  and  that  we  had  promised  him 
that  he  should  be  heard  by  the  Commanding  Officer,  or 
the  'Soldier  Chief/  when  we  reached  Red  Cloud,  and  I 
requested  that  arrangements  be  made  accordingly. 


450         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"When  within  four  miles  of  Red  Cloud,  I  received 
this  answer,  in  writing:  'Dear  Lee: — General  Bradley 
wishes  you  to  drive  direct  to  his  office  with  Crazy 
Horse.  Yours,  Clark.' 

"  I  had  built  the  post  and  knew  that  the  C.  O's  office 
was  next  the  guard  house.  This  brief  note,  being  silent 
as  to  the  important  parts  of  my  request,  signified  to 
my  mind  that  Crazy  Horse  was  to  be  put  in  the  guard 
house,  but  still  I  hoped  that  he  would  be  allowed  to  say 
a  few  words,  at  least,  which  would  redeem  the  promise  we 
had  made  in  good  faith. 

"We  proceeded  to  the  post,  my  Indians  on  either  side 
of  the  ambulance,  with  pieces  ready  for  instant  use,  and 
Crazy  Horse  in  the  center.  Upon  arriving  at  the  C.  O's 
office,  I  was  met  by  the  Adjutant,  who  informed  me 
that  General  Bradley  directed  that  Crazy  Horse  be 
turned  over  to  the  officer  of  the  day.  I  said:  'No, 
not  yet!'  and  asked  if  Crazy  Horse  could  say  a  few 
words  to  the  C.  0.  before  this  was  done.  I  was  re 
ferred  to  the  General.  I  had  Crazy  Horse  dismount, 
go  into  the  office  and  sit  down,  and  Swift  Bear,  Touch 
the  Clouds,  High  Bear,  Black  Crow  and  Good  Voice 
went  in  with  him.  I  stationed  an  Indian  soldier  at 
the  door  with  orders  to  admit  no  one  while  I  was  away. 
I  then  went  to  the  General's  quarters,  some  200  yards 
distant,  and  in  earnest  and  respectful  language  pre 
ferred  my  request,  and  he  informed  me,  in  no  doubtful 
terms,  that  ' 'twas  no  use!  The  orders  were  peremp 
tory;  he  could  not  change  them;  General  Crook  him 
self  could  not  change  them,  and  nothing  further  need 
be  said,  and  the  sooner  I  turned  over  Crazy  Horse  the 


SITTING  BULL  451 

better !'  I  tried  to  explain  what  had  been  done;  just 
what  had  been  promised  in  securing  Crazy  Horse,  to 
all  of  which  the  General  said:  'It's  too  late  to  have  any 
talk.'  I  replied:  'Can  he  be  heard  in  the  morning*! ' 
The  General  looked  at  me  steadily  for  an  instant,  but 
did  not  answer.  I  was  again  ordered  to  deliver  Crazy 
Horse  to  the  officer  of  the  day,  and  'tell  him  to  go 
with  the  officer  of  the  day  and  not  a  hair  of  his  head 
should  be  harmed." 

"General  Bradley  was  every  inch  a  soldier.  An 
order  to  him  was  law  and  gospel  and  met  with  prompt, 
undeviating  obedience,  and  woe  betide  the  one  who 
dared  question,  evade  or  fail  in  obeying  his  orders.  I 
knew  the  General  too  well  to  attempt  to  prolong  the 
interview.  I  felt  that  as  it  must  be  done,  "twere  well 
'twere  quickly  done/  yet,  as  I  retraced  my  steps  to 
the  office,  I  had  a  glimmering  hope  that  on  the  morrow 
Crazy  Horse  might  be  heard  and  the  promise  thus  re 
deemed.  I  told  Crazy  Horse  'the  night  was  coming  on 
and  the  Soldier  Chief  said  it  was  too  late  for  a  talk; 
that  he  said  for  him  to  go  with  the  officer  of  the  day 
and  he  would  be  taken  care  of  and  not  a  hair  of  his 
head  would  be  harmed.' 

"At  the  conclusion  of  my  message,  the  chiefs  uttered 
a  joyous  'how!'  Crazy  Horse's  face  lighted  up  hope 
fully,  and  he  stepped  quickly  across  the  room  to  the 
door  and  took  the  officer  of  the  day,  Captain  Kenning 
ton,  warmly  by  the  hand.  My  duty,  my  military  duty, 
was  done,  but  I  took  Touch  the  Clouds  and  High  Beai, 
Crazy  Horse's  friends,  to  one  side  to  explain  to  them, 
as  best  I  could,  the  unexpected  turn  affairs  had  taken, 


452         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

and  how  it  was  I  had  nothing  more  to  do  with  the 
matter  and  that  I  was  entirely  subject  to  higher  au 
thorities  there. 

"Crazy  Horse  willingly  went  along  with  Captain 
Kennington,  closely  followed  by  two  soldiers  of  the 
guard  with  side  arms,  straight  to  the  guard  house 
and  into  the  main  door.  When  he  reached  the  prison 
room,  he  saw  the  dungeon  cells,  the  small  grated  window, 
and  some  prisoners  in  irons,  it  was  said.  Across  the 
puzzled  brain  of  this  Indian  leader,  whose  life  had  been 
free  as  the  wind,  there  no  doubt  flitted  the  terrible 
thought  of  prison  chains  and  ignominious  death.  He 
was,  then  and  there,  at  last  brought  face  to  face  with 
what  the  white  man  had  in  store  for  him.  To  his 
mind,  abandoned  by  his  friends,  alone,  betrayed,  and 
surrounded  by  a  score  or  more  of  his  armed  enemies, 
he  sprang,  with  the  desperation  of  an  infuriated  tiger, 
into  the  main  guard  room,  and  drawing  from  his  cloth 
ing  a  long,  glittering  knife,  attempted  to  plunge  it 
into  Captain  Kennington,  but  the  Captain's  drawn 
sword  diverted  this  purpose;  he  then  sprang  outside, 
striking  right  and  left  and  struggling  to  make  his  way 
to  where  his  seven  friends  were. 

"At  this  juncture,  Little  Big  Man,  an  erstwhile 
friend  and  comrade  of  Crazy  Horse,  appeared  on  the 
scene.  He  seized  Crazy  Horse  by  the  arm  and  at 
tempted  to  force  him  to  the  ground.  The  great  chief, 
even  in  his  frenzy,  was  too  magnanimous  to  plunge 
the  knife  into  the  heart  of  Little  Big  Man,  but  merely 
punctured  his  arm  to  free  himself  from  his  treacherous 
grasp.  He  then  tried  hard  to  kill  a  soldier  of  the  guard 


SITTING  BULL  453 

who  blocked  his  way.  Swift  Bear,  Black  Crow  and 
Fast  Thunder  caught  him,  and  in  the  struggle  Captain 
Kennington  called  out:  'Kill  him\  Kill  himl'  and  just 
then  an  Infantry  soldier  of  the  guard  made  a  successful 
lunge  and  Crazy  Horse  fell,  mortally  wounded,  with  a 
deep  bayonet  thrust  in  his  right  side. 

"The  friendly  Indians  prevented  Crazy  Horse's 
friends  from  firing  on  the  guard.  All  the  Indians  were 
taken  by  surprise,  and  upon  the  pressing  appeal  and 
earnest  demand  of  his  friends,  Crazy  Horse  was  carried 
into  the  office  from  whence  he  came. 

"Confusion  followed;  troops  turned  out,  and  pan 
demonium  seemed  to  have  broken  loose  in  the  Indian 
camps.  Even  the  friendlies,  though  they  disliked 
Crazy  Horse,  were  not  pleased  with  the  result,  and 
there  was  not  much  that  could  then  be  explained  to 
their  satisfaction. 

"Crazy  Horse's  uncle  at  once  sought  to  take  revenge, 
but  two  friendlies  caught  and  led  him  away.  Touch 
the  Clouds  asked  permission  to  take  Crazy  Horse  to 
an  Indian  lodge  and  let  him  die  there,  but  it  was  re 
fused.  He  then  asked  to  remain  in  the  office  with 
him,  and  that  was  granted  on  condition  that  he  give 
up  his  gun.  I  recall  his  remarkable  reply:  'You  are 
many.  /  am  only  one.  You  may  not  trust  me,  but  I 
will  trust  you!  You  can  take  my  gun!' 

"Crazy  Horse's  old  father  and  mother  were  also 
allowed  to  remain  with  him.  About  10  P.M.  Touch 
the  Clouds  sent  word  that  Crazy  Horse  wished  to  see 
me  before  he  died.  I  went  to  the  office.  Crazy  Horse 
was  lying  on  the  floor,  as  he  desired.  He  took  my 


454         FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

proffered  hand  and  said  between  his  dying  moans, 
'My  friend,  I  don't  blame  you  for  this;  had  I  listened 
to  you,  this  trouble  would  not  have  happened  to  me.' 
He  died  at  midnight,  and  thus  passed  away  the  restless, 
untamed  spirit  of  as  brave  an  Indian  chief  as  ever 
drew  a  bow  or  wore  a  moccasin. 

"After  his  death  I  was  informed,  and  the  statement 
is,  I  believe,  in  the  official  reports,  that  he  had  threatened 
to  kill  General  Crook,  should  the  General  scold  or  speak 
roughly  to  him,  at  a  proposed  council  to  be  held  at 
Crazy  Horse's  camp,  some  days  prior  to  this  trouble. 
General  Crook  was  on  his  way  in  an  ambulance  to 
the  camp  for  the  talk,  when  one  of  the  scouts,  or  some 
one  who  was  watching  Crazy  Horse,  met  him  with 
news  of  this  impending  danger,  and  the  General  re 
turned  to  the  post  without  meeting  Crazy  Horse.  This 
may  have  all  been  true,  but  whether  it  was  merely  an 
idle  threat,  announced  in  a  spirit  of  bravado,  or  if 
made  and  meant,  he  would  have  sought  an  excuse  to 
carry  it  into  execution  can  never  be  known. 

"A  field  officer  of  Cavalry,  then  a  Captain,  informed 
me  that  his  troop  was  detailed  to  take  Crazy  Horse 
from  the  guard  house  that  night  at  midnight  and  push 
on  rapidly  to  the  railroad,  and  from  there  he  was  to 
be  sent  as  a  prisoner  to  the  Dry  Tortugas. 

"When  he  died,  Touch  the  Clouds  shook  hands  with 
all  present,  thus  showing  he  had  no  bad  heart  toward 
anyone. 

"Crazy  Horse's  father  made  some  pathetic  remarks 
as  to  the  life  and  character  of  his  son.  He  asked  that 
he  might  take  the  body  away  and  give  it  an  Indian 


SITTING  BULL  455 

burial,  and  consent  was  given — the  lifekss  form  was 
harmless  then!  The  offer  of  an  ambulance  was  declined, 
and  at  daylight,  September  6th.,  the  gray,  bareheaded, 
wailing,  wretched,  old  father  and  mother,  followed  on 
foot  out  of  the  post  the  travois  on  which  was  lashed 
the  body  of  their  only  son  and  protector.  Their  pitiable 
condition  appealed  to  the  sympathy  of  everyone,  and 
as  they  passed  Major  Burro  wes'  quarters,  they  were 
kindly  offered  something  to  eat,  which  they  accepted 
with  apparent  gratitude,  and  then  resumed  their  mourn 
ful  journey. 

"With  respect  to  Crazy  Horse,  I  neither  eulogize 
nor  condemn.  I  have  merely  stated  the  facts  as  they 
occurred,  mainly  under  my  own  observation,  or  as 
told  to  me  by  reliable  eye-witnesses.  There  is  no  Indian 
journalist,  author  or  reporter,  to  present  the  warlike 
chief's  side  of  the  sad  story  of  his  tragic  fate.  With 
the  lapse  of  time,  his  name  and  fame  may  linger  for 
a  while  in  the  traditions  of  his  tribe,  and  then  fade 
away  forever." 


CONCLUSION. 


Farewell  to  the  Indian! 

We  have  seen  that,  from  the  time  of  the  very  earliest 
European  adventurers,  to  the  great  Sioux  uprising  of 
1876,  there  has  been  but  one  result  of  the  contact 
between  the  whites  and  those  of  another  color.  Pow- 
hatan,  the  diplomat,  was  as  unable  to  keep  his  land 
from  the  Anglo-Saxon  invader  as  was  Sitting  Bull,  the 
tactician.  For  nearly  four  centuries  the  gradual  con 
quest  of  the  American  continent  went  on  apace,  with 
frightful  carnage,  suffering  and  race  hatred.  The  most 
fit  survived;  the  people  of  lesser  intelligence  and  thrift 
had  to  give  way  to  those  of  superior  attainments. 

It  has  been  a  picturesque  struggle.  There  has  been 
the  fierce  battling  against  the  Pamunkies  of  Virginia 
and  Opechancanough,  the  ruthless  Virginian.  There 
has  followed  the  strange  warfare  in  the  rude  forests  of 
Massachusetts  with  King  Philip,  and  the  neighboring 
contest  with  Sassacus,  chief  of  the  Pequots.  Later, 
was  the  sanguinary  struggle  in  the  Mohawk  Valley  of 
New  York;  the  wild  fighting  around  the  wooded  slopes 
of  the  Hudson;  the  swift  marches  and  vainglorious 
retreats  in  the  dreamy  forests  near  Lake  George,  and 
by  the  banks  of  the  gray,  glittering  Champlain. 

456 


CONCLUSION  457 

Then,  as  the  restless  pioneers  crept  southward  and 
westward,  was  the  carnage  of  Tippecanoe;  the  stalwart 
campaigning  in  the  trackless  forest  of  the  Illinois;  the 
battling  in  the  land  of  Weatherford,  the  Creek  con 
spirator;  and  the  long-continued  campaign  in  the  dark 
and  dismal  gloom  of  the  Florida  Everglades.  It  was 
a  time  which  put  men  upon  their  mettle,  and  in  which 
no  shirker  or  weakling  could  hope  to  have  a  place  of 
responsibility. 

The  most  desperate  struggles  were  between  1868  and 
1876,  struggles  which  have  made  heroes  of  both  red 
men  and  white.  As  the  steel  rails  of  the  Union  Pacific 
road  crept  steadily  but  surely  across  the  continent,  the 
Sioux  and  Cheyennes  desperately  endeavored  to  stem 
the  overwhelming  influx  of  white  settlers,  who  followed 
in  the  wake  of  the  army  and  the  railroad.  There  was 
fighting — and  plenty  of  it — for  Ouster,  Crook,  Miles, 
Forsyth  and  the  other  gallant  officers  of  the  United 
States  army.  Such  chiefs  as  Roman  Nose,  Crazy  Horse, 
Sitting  Bull  and  Red  Cloud  fought  with  all  the  tenacity 
and  strength  which  they  could  command.  It  was  of 
no  avail.  The  fields  of  the  Rosebud;  Beecher's  Island; 
the  Little  Big  Horn;  and  Slim  Buttes;  mark  stepping- 
stones  in  the  conquest  of  the  continent  by  the  white 
invader. 

I,  myself,  have  trod  over  the  ground  on  which  Opech- 
ancanough  battled  with  the  whites  in  Virginia;  have 
packed  across  the  wide  sweep  of  prairie  in  Wyoming 
which  once  echoed  with  the  wild  shouts  of  the  followers 
of  Crazy  Horse  and  Sitting  Bull;  have  slept  near  the 
crystal  waters  of  the  Powder  River;  and  have  camped 


458  CONCLUSION 

where  the  canons  once  echoed  with  the  rifle  shots  of 
Lieutenant  Sibley,  a  gallant  scout  of  Crook's  command, 
who  was  with  him  at  the  battle  of  the  Rosebud.  There 
were  no  signs  of  the  red  man  in  this  magnificent  country. 
He  had  vanished  from  the  grassy  plateaus  and  beetling 
mountains,  as  had  the  game  which  once  abounded  in  the 
fertile  land. 

The  Indian  of  the  plains  has  disappeared.  Now, 
educated  in  the  ways  and  customs  of  the  whites,  in 
various  schools  for  the  members  of  his  race,  he  joins 
in  the  conquest  of  the  soil,  and  in  modern  progress,  by 
the  same  methods  adopted  by  those  of  superior  mental 
development.  The  gorgeous  war  bonnets,  magnificent 
trappings,  and  painted  accoutrements  have  given  way 
to  the  sober  dress  and  technical  instruments  of  the 
whites.  The  picturesqueness  and  color  which  surrounds 
the  native  American  will  shortly  fade  away.  Spirited 
has  been  the  history  of  his  struggle  for  the  land  of  his 
forefathers,  and  sad  has  been  its  ending. 

Farewell  to  the  Indian  of  the  plains! 


THE  END. 


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Kentucky,"  and  "  The  Great  Scissors,"  put  into  a  single 
volume. 

THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  HOUSE  PARTY 

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THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  HOLIDAYS 

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THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  HERO 

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MARY  WARE  IN  TEXAS 

These  eleven  volumes,  with  The  Little  ColoneVs  Good  Times 
Book,  boxed  as  a  twelve-volume  set,  $18.00. 
A— 1 


L.  C.  PAGE  6-  COMPACTS 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL 

(Trade  Mark) 

TWO   LITTLE   KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY 
THE  GIANT  SCISSORS 
BIG  BROTHER 

Special   Holiday  Editions 

Each  one  volume,  cloth  decorative,  small  quarto,  $1 .25 
New  plates,  handsomely  illustrated  with  eight  full-page 
drawings  in  color,  and  many  marginal  sketches. 

IN  THE  DESERT  OF  WAITING:  THE  LEGEND 
OF  CAMELBACK  MOUNTAIN. 

THE  THREE  WEAVERS:  A  FAIRY  TALK  TOR 
FATHERS  AND  MOTHERS  AS  WELL  AS  FOR  THEIR 
DAUGHTERS. 

KEEPING  TRYST 

THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  BLEEDING  HEART 

THE   RESCUE  OF  PRINCESS  WINSOME: 

A  FAIRY  PLAY  FOR  OLD  AND  YOUNG. 

THE  JESTER'S  SWORD 

Each  one  volume,  tall  16mo,  cloth  decorative      .      $0.50 

Paper  boards .  -35 

There  has  been  a  constant  demand  for  publication  in 
separate  form  of  these  six  stories  which  were  originally 
included  in  six  of  the  "  Little  Colonel  *  books. 

JOEL:  A  BO  Y  OF  GALILEE:  BY  ANNIE  FELLOWS 
JOHNSTON.    Illustrated  by  L.  J.  Bridgman. 
New  illustrated  edition,  uniform  with  the  Little  Colonel 
Books,  1  vol.,  large  12mo,  cloth  decorative  .      $1 .50 

A  story  of  the  time  of  Christ,  which  is  one  of  the  author's 

best-known  books. 

A—? 


BOOKS  FOR    YOUXG  PEOPLE 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL    GOOD    TIMES 
BOOK 

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Published  in  response  to  many  inquiries  from  readers 

of  the  Little  Colonel  books  as  to  where  they  could  obtain 

a  "  Good  Times  Book  "  such  as  Betty  kept. 

THE     LITTLE     COLONEL     DOLL     BOOK 

Large  quarto,  boards $1.50 

A  series  of  "Little  Colonel"  dolls, — not  only  the 
Little  Colonel  herself,  but  Betty  and  Kitty  and  Mary 
Ware,  yes,  and  Itob,  Phil,  and  many  another  of  the  well- 
loved  characters,  —  even  Mom'  Beck  herself.  There  are 
many  of  them  and  each  has  several  changes  of  costume,  so 
that  the  happy  group  can  be  appropriately  clad  for  the 
rehearsal  of  any  scene  or  incident  in  the  series. 

The  large,  cumbersome  sheets  of  most  of  the  so-called 
doll  "  books "  have  been  discarded,  and  instead  each 
character,  each  costume,  occupies  a  sheet  by  itself,  the 
dolls  and  costumes  being  cut  out  only  as  they  are  wanted. 
ASA  HOLMES:  OR,  AT  THE  CROSS-ROADS.  A  sketch 

of    Country  Life    and  Country    Humor.       By    ANNIE 

FELLOWS  JOHNSTON. 

With  a  frontispiece  by  Ernest  Fosbery. 

Large  16mo,  cloth,  gilt  top $1.00 

"  '  Asa  Holmes;    or,  At  the  Cross-Roads  '  is  the  most 
delightful,  most  sympathetic  and  wholesome  book  that 
1-j.s  been  published  in  a  long  while." — Boston  Times. 
THE  RIVAL  CAMPERS;  OR,  THE  ADVENTURES  OF 

HENRY  BURNS.    By  RUEL  PERLEY  SMITH. 

Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated   .        .      $1.50 

A  story  of  a  party  of  typical  American  lads,  courageous, 
alert,  and  athletic,  who  spend  a  summer  camping  on  an 
island  off  the  Maine  coast. 

THE  RIVAL  CAMPERS   AFLOAT;    OR,  THE 

PRIZE  YACHT  VIKING.     By  RUEL  PERLEY  SMITH. 
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Rival  Campers  "  on  their  prize  yacht  Viking. 


L.  C.  PAGE   &    COMPANY'S 


THE  RIVAL   CAMPERS   ASHORE 

By  RUEL  PEBLEY  SMITH. 

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"  As  interesting  ashore  as  when  afloat."  —  The  Interior. 

THE  RIVAL  CAMPERS  AMONG  THE 
OYSTER  PIRATES  ;  OR,  JACK  HARVEY'S  ADVEN 
TURES.  By  RUEL  PERLEY  SMITH.  Illustrated  .  $1.50 
"  Just  the  type  of  book  which  is  most  popular  with  lads 

who  are  in  their  early  teens."  -  —  The  Philadelphia  Item. 

FAMOUS   CAVALRY   LEADERS.     By  CHARLES 

H.  L.  JOHNSTON. 

Large  12mo.     With  24  illustrations     .        .        .      $1.50 

Biographical  sketches,  with  interesting  anecdotes  and 
reminiscences  of  the  heroes  of  history  who  were  leaders 
of  cavalry. 

"  More  of  such  books  should  be  written,  books  that 
acquaint  young  readers  with  historical  personages  in  a 
pleasant  informal  way."  —  N.  Y.  Sun. 

FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS.  By  CHARLES  H. 
L.  JOHNSTON. 

Large  12mo,  illustrated $1.50 

In  this  book  Mr.  Johnston  gives  interesting  sketches  of 
the  Indian  braves  who  have  figured  with  prominence  in 
the  history  of  our  own  land,  including  Powhatan,  the 
Indian  Caesar;  Massasoit,  the  friend  of  the  Puritans; 
Pontiac,  the  red  Napoleon;  Tecumseh,  the  famous  war 
chief  of  the  Shawnees;  Sitting  Bull,  the  famous  war  chief 
of  the  Sioux;  Geronimo,  the  renowned  Apache  Chief,  etc. 

FAMOUS  PRIVATEERSMEN  AND  ADVEN 
TURERS  OF  THE  SEA.  By  CHARLES  H.  L. 
JOHNSTON. 

Large  12mo,  illustrated $1.50 

In  this  volume  Mr.  Johnston  tells  interesting  stories 
about  the  famous  sailors  of  fortune.  There  are  tales  of 
Captain  Otway  Burns,  patriot,  privateer  and  legislator; 
Wpodes  Rogers,  scourge  of  the  South  Sea  trade;  Captain 
William  Death,  wolf  of  the  ocean;  and  of  many  others. 
A  — 4 


BOOK'S  FOR    YOUNG  PEOPLE 


FAMOUS  SCOUTS.      By  CHARLES  H.  L.  JOHNSTON. 

Large  12mo,  illustrated $1.50 

Mr.  Johnston  gives  us  historical  facts  and  biographical 
sketches  and  interesting  anecdotes  of  those  heroes  of  early 
pioneer  days  who  made  names  for  themselves  among  the 
nardy  adventurers  who  thronged  the  border.  There  are 
tales  of  Gen.  Israel  Putnam;  the  celebrated  Daniel  Boone; 
Kit  Carson,  the  noted  scout;  Lewis  and  Clarke,  the  hardy 
explorers;  the  world-renowned  Buffalo  Bill,  and  of  many 
other  famous  scouts,  trappers  and  pioneers. 

BEAUTIFUL    JOE'S    PARADISE:      OR,    THE 

ISLAND  OF  BROTHERLY  LOVE  .  A  sequel  to ' '  Beautiful  Joe . ' ' 
By  MARSHALL  SAUNDERS,  author  of  "  Beautiful  Joe." 
One  vol.,  library  12mo,  cloth,  illustrated    .        .       $1.50 
"  This  book  revives  the  spirit  of  '  Beautiful  Joe  '  capi 
tally.    It  is  fairly  riotous  with  fun,  and  is  about  as  unusual 
as  anything  in  the  animal  book  line  that  has  seen  the 
light.    —  Philadelphia  Item. 
'TILDA  JANE.     By  MARSHALL  SAUNDERS. 

One  vol.,  12mo,  fully  illustrated,  cloth  decorative,  $1.50 
"  I  cannot  think  of  any  better  book  for  children  than 
this.     I  commend  it  unreservedly."  —  Cyrus   Townsend 
Brady. 

>TILD A  JANE'S  ORPHANS.    A  sequel  to  "  'Tilda 
Jane."     By  MARSHALL  SAUNDERS. 
One  vol.,  12mo,  fully  illustrated,  cloth  decorative,  $1.50 
'Tilda  Jane  is  the  same  original,  delightful  girl,  and  as 

fond  of  her  animal  pets  as  ever. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  GRAVELE YS.     By  MAR 
SHALL  SAUNDERS,   author  of   "  Beautiful  Joe's  Para 
dise,"  "  Tilda  Jane,"  etc. 
Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative.     Illustrated  by  E.  B. 

Barry $1.50 

Here  we  have  the  haps  and  mishaps,  the  trials  and 

triumphs,  of  a  delightful  New  England  family,  of  whose 

devotion  and  sturdiness  it  will  do  the  reader  good  to  hear. 

BORN   TO   THE  BLUE.     By  FLORENCE  KIMBAIA 

RUSSEL. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  .  .  $1.25 
The  atmosphere  of  army  life  on  the  plains  breathes  on 
every  page  of  this  delightful  tale.  The  boy  is  the  son  of  a 
captain  of  U.  S.  cavalry  stationed  at  a  frontier  post  in  the 
days  when  our  regulars  earned  the  gratitude  of  a  nation. 
A— 6 


L.  C.  PAGE  6-  COMPANY'S 


IN  WEST  POINT  GRAY 

By  FLORENCE  KIMBALL  RUSSEL. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  .  .  $1.50 
"  Singularly  enough  one  of  the  best  books  of  the  year 
for  boys  is  written  by  a  woman  and  deals  with  life  at  West 
Point.  The  presentment  of  life  in  the  famous  military 
academy  whence  so  many  heroes  have  graduated  is  realistic 
and  enjoyable." — New  York  Sun. 

THE  SANDMAN:  HIS  FARM  STORIES 

By  WILLIAM  J.  HOPKINS.     With  fifty  illustrations  by 

Ada  Clendenin  Williamson. 

Large  1 2mo,  decorative  cover        ....      $1.50 

"  An  amusing,  original  book,  written  for  the  benefit  of 
very  small  children.  It  should  be  one  of  the  most  popular 
of  the  year's  books  for  reading  to  small  children."  — 
Buffalo  Express. 

THE  SANDMAN:    MORE  FARM  STORIES 

By  WILLIAM  J.  HOPKINS. 

Large  12mo,  decorative  cover,  fully  illustrated      $1.50 

Mr.  Hopkins's  first  essay  at  bedtime  stories  met  with 

such  approval  that  this  second  book  of  "  Sandman  "  tales 

was  issued  for  scores  of  eager  children.    Life  on  the  farm, 

and  out-of-doors,  is  portrayed  in  his  inimitable  manner. 

THE    SANDMAN:     HIS    SHIP    STORIES 

By  WILLIAM  J.  HOPKINS,  author  of  "  The  Sandman: 
His  Farm  Stories,"  etc. 

Large  12mo,  decorative  cover,  fully   illustrated      $1.50 
"  Children  call  for  these  stories  over  and  over  again."  — 
Chicago    Evening  Post. 

THE  SANDMAN:  HIS  SEA  STORIES 

By  WILLIAM  J.  HOPKINS. 

Large  12mo,  decorative  cover,  fully  illustrated      $1.50 

Each  year  adds  to  the  popularity  of  this  unique  series 

of  stories  to  be  read  to  the  1;*-tle  ones  at  bed  time  and  at 

other  times. 

A— 6 


BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 


A  TEXAS   BLUE  BONNET 

By  EMILIA  ELLIOTT. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  .  .  $1.50 
This  is  the  story  of  a  warm-hearted,  impulsive  and  breezy 
girl  of  the  Southwest,  who  has  lived  all  her  life  on  a  big 
ranch.  She  comes  to  the  far  East  for  a  long  visit,  and  her 
experiences  "  up  North  "  are  indeed  delightful  reading. 
Blue  Bonnet  is  sure  to  win  the  hearts  of  all  girl  readers. 

THE   DOCTOR'S   LITTLE   GIRL 

By  MARION  AMES  TAGGART. 

One  vol.,  library  12mo,  illustrated        .        .        .      $1.50 
A  thoroughly  enjoyable  tale  of  a  little  girl  and  her  com 
rade  father,  written  in  a  delightful  vein  of  sympathetic 
comprehension  of  the  child's  point  of  view. 

SWEET   NANCY 

THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  THE  DOCTOR'S  LITTLE 

GIRL.     By  MARION  AMES  TAGGART. 

One  vol.,  library  12mo,  illustrated        .        .        .      $1.50 

In  the  new  book,  the  author  tells  how  Nancy  becomes 
in  fact  "  the  doctor's  assistant,"  ^nd  continues  to  shed 
happiness  around  her. 

NANCY,   THE   DOCTOR'S    LITTLE    PART 
NER 

By  MARION  AMES  TAGGART. 

One  vol.,  library  12mo,  illustrated        .        .        .      $1.50 

In  Nancy  Porter,  Miss  Taggart  has  created  one  of  the 

most  lovable   child   characters  in  recent  years.     In   the 

new  story  she  is  the  same  bright  and  cheerful  little  maid. 

ALYS- ALL -ALONE 

By  UNA  MACDONALD. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  $1.50 
A  delightful,  well-written,  happy-ending  story  which 
will  gladden  the  hearts  of  many  a  reader.  Though  dearly 
loved  above  all  else,  a  little  girl,  Alys,  must  be  left  some 
what  alone.  Indeed  she  feels  and  calls  herself  "Alys-All- 
Alone."  The  story  closes  with  the  little  girl  happily  estab 
lished  in  a  real  home  —  no  longer  "  Alys- All- Alone." 
A  — 7 


t.  C.  PAGE  <5r>  COMPANY'S  • 


GABRIEL  AND  THE  HOUR  BOOK 

By  EVALEEN  STJJJ&T. 

Small  quarto,  ^Imih  decorative,  illustrated  and  deco 
rated  in  colors  by  Adelaide  Everhart  .        .        .      $1.00 
Gabriel  was  a  loving,  patient,  little  French  lad,  who 
assisted  the  monks  in  the  long  ago  days,  when  all  the  books 
were  written  and  illuminated  by  hand,  in  the  monasteries. 

A  LITTLE   SHEPHERD  OF  PROVENCE 

By  EVALEEN  STEIN. 

Small  quarto,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  in  colors  by 
Diantha  Home  Marlowe  .  .  •  ••  •  $1.00 
This  is  the  story  of  Little  lame  Jean,  a  goatherd  of 

Provence,  and  of  the  "  golden  goat "  who  is  supposed 

to  guard  a  hidden  treasure. 

THE  STORY  OF   RAOUL 

By  EVALEEN  STEIN. 

Cloth,  12mo,  illustrated  and  decorated  in  colors     $1.25 
This  is  the  story  of  a  lad  of  noble  birth,  who,  though  kid 
napped  by  an  uncle  who  had  long  been  an  enemy  to  the 
house  of  Raoul,  succeeds  by  his  very  kindness  and  lovable 
nature  in  winning  tM|  affections  of  the  old  man. 

THE  CHRISTMAS  MAKERS'   CLUB 

By  EDITH  A.  SAWYER. 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  Ada  C.  Williamson  $1.50 
One  of  the  best  books  for  girls  that  has  been  published 
for  a  long  time.  It  abounds  in  merrymaking  and  the  right 
kind  of  fun,  and  possesses  a  gentle  humor  and  pathos 
which  will  touch  the  hearts  of  mothers  as  well  as  their 
daughters.  ' 

ELSA'S  GIFT  HOME 

By  EDITH  A.  SAWYER. 

Cloth    decorative,    illustrated    by    Florence    E.    Nos- 

worthy $1.50 

A  delightful  and  sunshiny  story  which  tells  more  about 
I  the  dainty  Elsa  Danforth  and  her  girl  chums.  How  genial 
Uncle  Ned's  Christmas  gift  brought  joy  not  only  to  Elsa 
and  the  "  Christmas  Club,"  but  to  many  others,  is  the 
happy  theme  for  a  whole-spirited  book  for  girls. 
A  — 8 


BOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  PEOPLE 


THE  YOUNG  SECTION-HAND;     OR,  THE  AD 
VENTURES  OF  ALLAar  WEST.  By  BURTON  E.  STEVENSON. 
Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .        .      $1.50 
Mr.  Stevenson's  hero  is  a  manly  lad  of  sixteen,  who  is 
given  a  chance  as  a  section-hand  on  a  big  Western  rail 
road,  and  whose  experiences  are  as  real  as  they  are  thrilling. 

THE  YOUNG  TRAIN  DISPATCHER.  By  BUR- 
TON   E.   STEVENSON. 

Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated   .        .      $1.50 
"  A  better  book  for  boys  has  never  left  an  American 

press."  —  Spring 'field    Union. 

THE  YOUNG  TRAIN  MASTER.   By  BURTON  E. 

STEVENSON. 

Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated          .      $1.50 
"  Nothing  better  in  the  way  of  a  book  of  adventure  for 
boys  in  which  the  actualities  of  life  are  set  forth  in  a  practi 
cal  way  could  be  devised  or  written."  —  Boston  Herald. 

CAPTAIN  JACK  LO RIMER.   By  WINN  STANDISH. 

Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated         .      $1.^0 
Jack  is  a  fine  example  of  the  all-around  American  high- 
school  boy. 

JACK  LORIMER'S  CHAMPIONS;  OR,  SPORT* 
ON  LAND  AND  LAKE.    By  WINN  STANDISH. 
Square  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated       .       $1.50 
"  It  is  exactly  the  sort  of  book  to  give  a  boy  interested 

in  athletics,  for  it  shows  him  what  it  means  to  always 

'  play  fair.'  "  —  Chicago   Tribune. 

JACK  LORIMER'S  HOLIDAYS;   OR,  MILLVALE 

HIGH  IN  CAMP.    By  WINN  STANDISH. 

Illustrated        .        .        .        .        .        .        .     *  .      $1.50 

Full  of  just  the  kind  of  fun,  sports  and  adventure  to 
excite  the  healthy  minded  youngster  to  emulation. 

JACK  LORIMER'S  SUBSTITUTE;  OR,  THE  ACT-' 
ING  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  TEAM.     By  WINN  STANDISH. 

Illustrated .        .      $1.50 

On  the  sporting  side,  this  book  takes  up  football,  wres-  . 

tling,  tobogganing,  but  it  is  more  of  a  school  story  perhaps 

than  any  of  its  predecessors. 

A— y 


L.  C.  PAGE  <&-    COMPANY'S 


THE  RED  FEATHERS.  By  G.  E.  T.  ROBERTS. 
Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  .  .  .  $1.50 
"  The  Red  Feathers  "  tells  of  the  remarkable  adventures 

of  an  Indian  boy  who  lived  in  the  Stone  Age,  many  years 

ago,  when  the  world  was  young. 

FLYING   PLOVER.    By  G.  E.  THEODORE  ROBERTS. 
Cloth  decorative.      Illustrated  by   Charles   Livingston 

Bull $1.00 

Squat-By-The-Fire  is  a  very  old  and  wise  Indian  who 

lives  alone  with  her  grandson,  "  Flying  Plover,"  to  whom 

she  tells  the  stories  each  evening. 

COMRADES    OF    THE    TRAILS.      By  G.  E. 

THEODORE  ROBERTS. 

Cloth  decorative.     Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston 

Bull $1.50 

The  story  of  a  fearless  young  English  lad,  Dick  Ramsey, 
who,  after  the  death  of  his  father,  crosses  the  seas  and 
takes  up  the  life  of  a  hunter  in  the  Canadian  forests. 

MARCHING    WITH    MORGAN.      How  DONALD 

LOVELL  BECAME  A  SOLDIER  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 
By  JOHN  V.  LANE. 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated         .       .        .        .       $1.50 
This  is  a  splendid   boy's  story  of  the  expedition  of 
Montgomery  and  Arnold  against  Quebec. 

RODNEY,.  THE  RANGER  OR,  WITH  DANIEL 
MORGAN  ON  TRAIL  AND  BATTLEFIELD.  By  JOHN  V. 
LANE. 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated          .        .        .        .      $1.50 
Young  Rodney  Allison,  although  but  fifteen  years  of 
age,  played  a  man's   part  in   the  troublous  times  pre 
ceding  the  American  Revolution  and  in  the  War  itself. 

CHINESE    PLAYMATES 

By  NORMAN  H.  PITMAN. 

Small  cloth  12mo,  illustrated        ....      $1.00 
A    worth-while,    happy    little    story    about    two    little 
Chinese  boys,  Lo-Lo  and  Ta-Ta,  and  the  strange  fortunes 
that  befell  them  when  they  wandered  from  home. 
A— 10 


BOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  PEOPLE 


COSY  CORNER  SERIES 

It  is  the  intention  of  the  publishers  that  this  series  shall 
contain  only  the  very  highest  and  purest  literature,  — 
stories  that  shall  not  only  appeal  to  the  children  them 
selves,  but  be  appreciated  by  all  those  who  feel  with 
them  in  their  joys  and  sorrows. 

The  numerous  illustration?  in  each  book  are  by  well- 
known  artists,  and  each  volume  has  a  separate  attract 
ive  cover  design. 

Each  1  vol.,  16mo,  cloth $0.50 

By  ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON 

THE   LITTLE    COLONEL      (Trade  Mark.) 

The  scene  of  this  story  is  laid  in  Kentucky.  Its  hero 
ine  is  a  small  girl,  who  is  known  as  the  Little  Colonel, 
on  account  of  her  fancied  resemblance  to  an  old-school 
Southern  gentleman,  whose  fine  estate  and  old  family 
are  famous  in  the  region. 

THE  GIANT  SCISSORS 

This  is  the  story  of  Joyce  and  of  her  adventures  in 
France.  Joyce  is  a  great  friend  of  the  Little  Colonel, 
and  in  later  volumes  shares  with  her  the  delightful  ex 
periences  of  the  "  House  Party  "  and  the  "  Holidays." 

TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY 

WHO  ^WERE  THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  NEIGHBORS. 

In  this  volume  the  Little  Colonel  returns  to  us  like  an 
old  friend,  but  with  added  grace  and  charm.  She  is  not, 
however,  the  central  figure  of  the  story,  that  place  being 
taken  by  the  "  two  little  knights." 

MILDRED'S  INHERITANCE 

A  delightful  little  story  of  a  lonely  English  girl  who 
^omes  to  America  and  is  befriended  by  a  sympathetic 
American  family  who  are  attracted  by  her  beautiful 
speaking  voice.  By  means  of  this  one  gift  ^she  is  en 
abled  to  help  a  school-girl  who  has  temporarily  lost  the 
use  of  her  eyes,  and  thus  finally  her  life  becomes  a  busy, 
happy  one. 
A— 11 


L.  C.  PAGE  *•  COMPACTS 
By  ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON  (Continued} 

CICELY  AND  OTHER  STORIES  FOR  GIRLS 

The  readers  of  Mrs.  Johnston's  charming  juveniles 
will  be  glad  to  learn  of  the  issue  of  this  volume  for  young 
people. 

AUNT  'LIZA'S  HERO  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

A  collection  of  six  bright  little  stories,  which  will  appeal 
to  all  boys  and  most  girls. 

BIG  BROTHER 

A  story  of  two  boys.  The  devotion  and  care  of  Stephen, 
himself  a  small  boy,  for  his  baby  brother,  is  the  theme  of 
the  simple  tale. 

OLE  MAMMY'S  TORMENT 

"Ole  Mammy's  Torment"  has  been  fitly  called  "a 
classic  of  Southern  life."  It  relates  the  haps  and  mis 
haps  of  a  small  negro  lad,  and  tells  how  he  was  led  by 
love  and  kindness  to  a  knowledge  of  the  right. 

THE  STORY  OF  DAGO 

In  this  story  Mrs.  Johnston  relates  the  story  of  Dago, 
a  pet  monkey,  owned  jointly  by  two  brothers.  Dago 
tells  his  own  story,  and  the  account  of  his  haps  and  mis 
haps  is  both  interesting  and  amusing. 

THE  QUILT  THAT  JACK  BUILT 

A  pleasant  little  story  of  a  boy's  labor  of  love,  and  how 
it  changed  the  course  of  his  life  many  years  after  it  war 
accomplished 

FLIP'S  ISLANDS  OF  PROVIDENCE 

A  story  of  a  boy's  life  battle,  his  early  defeat,  and  hit 
final  triumph,  well  worth  the  reading. 
A-12 


bOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  PEOPLE 


By  EDITH  ROBINSON 

A  LITTLE  PURITAN'S  FIRST  CHRISTMAS 

A  story  of  Colonial  times  in  Boston,  telling  how  Christ 
mas  waa  invented  by  betty  bewail,  a  typical  child  of  the 
Puritans,  aided  by  her  brother  Sam. 

A  LITTLE  DAUGHTER  OF  LIBERTY 

The  author  introduces  this  story  as  follows: 
"  One  ride  is  memorable  in  the  early  history  of  the 
American  Revolution,  the  well-known  ride  of  Paul 
Kevere.  Equally  deserving  of  commendation  is  another 
ride,  —  the  ride  of  Anthony  Severn,  —  which  was  no  less 
historic  in  its  action  or  memorable  hi  its  consequences." 

A  LOYAL  LITTLE  MAID 

A  delightful  and  interesting  story  of  Revolutionary 
days,  in  which  the  child  heroine,  l:etsey  Schuyler,  renders 
important  services  to  George  Washington. 

A  LITTLE  PURITAN  REBEL 

This  is  an  historical  tale  of  a  real  girl,  during  the  time 
when  the  gallant  Sir  Harry  Vane  was  governor  of  Massa 
chusetts. 

A  LITTLE  PURITAN  PIONEER 

The  scene  of  this  story  is  laid  in  the  Puritan  settlement 
at  Charlestown. 

A  LITTLE  PURITAN  BOUND  GIRL 

A  story  of  Boston  in  Puritan  days,  which  is  of  great 
interest  to  youthful  readers. 

A  LITTLE  PURITAN  CAVALIER 

The  story  of  a  "  Little  Puritan  Cavalier  "  who  tried 
with  all  his  boyish  enthusiasm  to  emulate  the  spirit  and 
ideals  of  the  dead  Crusaders. 

A  PURITAN  KNIGHT  ERRANT 

The  story  tells  of  a  young  lad  in  Colonial  times  who 
endeavored  to  carry  out  the  high  ideals  of  the  knights 
of  olden  days. 
4—13 


Z.  C.  PAGE  <5r*  COMPANY'S 


By  QUID  A  (Louise  de  la  Ramee) 

A  DOG  OF  FLANDERS 

A  CHRISTMAS  STORY 

Too  well  and  favorably  known  to  require  description, 

THE  NURNBERG  STOVE 

This  beautiful  story  has  never  before  been  published 
at  a  popular  price. 

By  FRANCES  MARGARET  FOX 

THE  LITTLE  GIANT'S  NEIGHBOURS 

A  charming  nature  story   of  a  "  little  giant  "  whoe^ 
neighbors  were  the  creatures  of  the  field  and  garden. 

FARMER  BROW  AND  THE  BIRDS 

A  little  story  which  teaches  children  that  the  birds  are 
man's  best  friends. 

BETTY  OF  OLD  MACKINAW 

A  charming  story  of  child  life. 

BROTHER  BILLY 

The  story  of  Betty's  brother,  and  some  further  adven 
tures  of  Betty  herself. 

MOTHER  NATURE'S  LITTLE  ONES 

Curious  little  sketches  d  scribing  the  early  lifetime,  Qt 
"  childhood,"  of  the  little  creatures  out-of-doors. 

HOW    CHRISTMAS    CAME    TO    THE    MUL- 

VANEYS 

A  bright,  lifelike  little  story  of  a  family  of  poor  children 
with  an  unlimited  capacity  for  fun  and  mischief. 

THE  COUNTRY  CHRISTMAS 

Miss  Fox  has  vividly  described  the  happy  surprises  that 
made  the  occasion  so  memorable  to  the  Mulvaneys,  and 
the  funny  things  the  children  did  in  their  new  environ^ 
ment. 
A— 14 


F 


LIBRARY  USE  \2Q 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

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ICLF 

(N) 

R  Ma«  !•  1 

Viny 

FEC.CIR.    MA      7'15 

SENT  ON  ILL 

OCT  1  7  1994 

U.  C.  PPRKEL^Y 

LD  62A-50m-7,'65 
(F5756slO)9412A 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

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